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ajortga · 3 months

Text

the warmth of your hand

pairing: cairo sweet x fem reader

summary: tender kisses with the crisp cold of a sunset winter night, you and cairo go ice skating, another sweet memory being made.

word count: 1.9k+

Where the long lasting snow falls from the sky ever so gently,

The hushed whispers of words of the wind that blows in your hair when I brush it through my fingers.

Forever winter,

The cold that answers my prayers and tints your cheeks pink,

So I that you can ask for my warmth and comfort,

While I envelope you in a love that’ll keep you so safe, pressing my lips against your snow-fallen cheeks..

“Cairo!” you call out, your voice a soft melody as it rings through the coldness of the snow, and to the small creek that leads to the window of her room. Cairo’s ears perk as she places down her pen and swipes her thin hands over her journal filled with poetic beauty, the ink slightly smearing and leaving its mark.

She closes her notes filled with poetry of you, using the clip of her pen to grasp onto the book’s handle and wraps it in the band that keeps it together.

“I’m coming love!” Cairo says, her voice growing a bit louder so you can hear her from outside. She didn’t want you to wait outside for long as she rolls out of bed and opens her closet, grabbing a pair of mittens, earmuffs, and wrapping a scarf around the nape of her neck. She flings her bedroom door open and swings down the hallway, opening the door to be greeted by your figure.

You had your headphones hung around your neck, earmuffs in and your hair curled beautifully down. It took your girlfriend's breath away as she smiled at you. Your soft eyes met hers and she squealed, making you giggle. Your breath warmed up the cold air around you, a breath trying to warm it up, a sigh that is visible to one who sees it, your breath fogging in the cold winter air as it travels and dissipates.

It’s like her writing when it comes to life. Of course it would come to life, all her writings are about you, your love, your beauty, you. Where the cold answers her prayers and tints your cheeks pink. It makes Cairo’s lips curve into a warm smile to see the way you look adorable, with your scarf covering your chin and you waddle up to her like a penguin.

“G’morning..” you say, a small sniffle following in suit.

“Hi baby,” Cairo whispers, ruffling your hair and scratching your scalp gently. She nuzzles your nose, having to bend down to press her nose to yours and giving your lips a kiss. Her lips are warm, soft, your lips are pouty, sweet.

Before you can pull away and feel the eternal warmth of her lips again, her arms wrap around you and slide down to your waist. You feel her lift you up as a cheeky grin forms on your face, spinning around in her arms and making a small childish squeal like it’s Christmas day. Cairo grins, feeling your nimble hands brush the invading bangs away from her forehead.

“I missed you. And it’s cold,” you murmur, your hot breath purposely blowing against her face, causing a contagious laugh to sound from her.

She feels the way your legs lift to wrap around her waist as she carries you, her nose pressed into your shoulder as your face buries into her neck.

“You are cold,” she states, “But that’s okay, we have plenty of time to cuddle and warm up before we go on our date in the evening, cmon.”

She opens the door to her house and shuts it with her foot, you two kissing and making out along the way, lovely mumbles being made between each.

“I missed you.”

Kiss.

“I love you,”

Seal that promise with another kiss.

You nestle your nose to the home of her neck as she carries you to her bed that is invaded by the sweet vanilla smell of her. You squeak as she pulls away from your lips, you press another greedy kiss to her lips again before she swings you back and forth.

“Here comes the airplane!”

“Cairo.. Cairo! CairOoOOOOOO!” you shriek as she throws you on her bed and comes right after, jumping on you and hugging you. You giggle from her funniness before feeling her fingertips wiggle against your stomach, tickling you.

“No! Stop!” You belly laugh, your body squirming under her as she tickles and tickles.

“Tell me you love meee.”

You can’t breathe from all the laughing as you snort and giggle, squeaking in between.

Your giggle is so cute, she thinks.

“Noo!! Okay yes I love you!” you squeal as you surrender your hands to say that you give up.

“I know,” she says softly, letting you scoot into her embrace. “I just wanted to find a way to warm you up a little.”

It worked a little. You tell that to her, giving her another reason to let you rest against her body, like a puppy wanting their mothers warmth. You kiss her neck, nuzzling it with your nose as she kisses your forehead with a loving remark.

You spend the rest of the morning cuddling while resting in Cairo’s arms. She puts you to sleep by whispering her poems about you into your ear. The warmth of her breath against the shell of your ear makes you fall asleep faster. She notices the way your eyes flutter and twitches that you're fast asleep. You don’t know how she does it, you already got enough sleep but she always finds a way to make you sleepy again, even with the most amount of caffeine you may have had. From 9 to 11 you’re in a deep sleep with her sweet gentle whispers.

From 12-3 you and Cairo spend time cooking together. Boiling water and pouring some noodles in. After making your alfredo with garlic bread, anybody would die to look through the window and live your love life, your eyes looking into each other as you feed each other. Your fork reaches her mouth as she captures it with her lips and eats, she feeds you and wipes some of the sauce off your smooth chin.

From 4-5 you two get ready for ice skating, it was going to snow tonight. It’s like a rom-com movie and you would die to live in that with Cairo, sharing kisses near the campfire. Maybe more. Holding hands while you sleep and curl to each other. You cling on and your legs wrapped around her body as others look at you in pure awe.

You slip on a puffy white jacket above your top and put on some flared jeans, topping it off with some earmuffs that you may or may not have stolen when Cairo was changing.

“I saw that.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Give me those back.”

“Cairo.”

“Y/N.”

“Do you not love me?” You say, looking like you were about to cry. You loved when you could fake cry. Guess acting classes really did benefit you besides doing theater.

She sees your trembling lips and teary eyes and immediately she gives up. Coming to hug you and pressing her lips to your forehead.

“Okay shh. You can wear them. Or keep them because I love you, okay?” She coos, voice coaxing you as a childish giggle erupts from your chest.

“Yay!”

You hug her and she lifts you up, kissing you softly, “Come on princess,” your legs wrap around her as she grabs her key and unlocks the door, walking to the ice skating rink not too far from her house.

After a few minutes of walking and giving gentle, loving kisses, she places you down on the floor, caressing your cheek.

“Okay love bug, let’s go ice skating, okay?”

You nuzzle her neck, intertwining your hand with hers as you swing them up and down, giggling along the way. You sit next to her, snuggled up while you put on your ice skates.

“Your nose is all red honey.”

You sniffle, letting her touch her nose with yours, feeling her scarf wrap around her neck when she lifts you up

Yours and Cairo’s feet were going to touch the rink as she examines the glossy ice, “It looks a little slippery, be careful, I can guide you-”

Before she could finish you giggled and skated on the ice, doing a small spin.

“Be careful!” she squeals, letting you drag her hand onto the rink as she clings onto you for support. She screams as her legs shake, begging you to start on the edge. Cairo was gripping onto the edge for dear life as you assured her, kissing her neck with love.

The sun was setting, you two were skating while holding hands. It was beautiful as you were cuddled up to her while she wobbled. She got the hang of it as you guys skated faster among all the other sweet couples.

“I think we look the cutest,” you whisper, looking up at her and playing with the twist of her hair.

“Oh really? I know we look the best baby. You’re making everyone jealous of me to be with a girl like you.”

A blush creeps up on your cheek as you smack her playfully, “That’s not true.”

“Well everyone else probably would kill to have a girl like you.”

“But I only have eyes for you. You are the prettiest, sweetest, kindest, most lovingest girl I’ve ever known.”

Now it’s Cairo’s turn to blush, it caught her so off guard that she lost balance and slipped, taking you down with her as you two yelped. You landed on top of Cairo as you laughed.

“See, you know it’s trueeee.”

“No!”

“Maybe they’re just jealous of us, they want what we have because we never fight unless it’s to prove the other person’s personality Cairo.”

The curled hair brunette lifts you up and you two continue skating.

After a few hours of skating and tenderness, the sun greeted the moon as its sweet warmth faded. The twinkling lights above the rink glistened against the ice.

“That was fun, huh baby?”

“I loved it more because it was with you.”

Cairo giggles, your smile never fading as you two leave the ice rink. She helps untie your skates and gives your hand a little kiss before taking hers off.

You spend the rest of the night getting street food and sharing it with each other. Your hands never tear away from each other as you hug her while walking around the bustling city.

When you drop her off it’s like a scene from a romance movie that makes you kick your legs.

“Thank you for tonight,” you whisper, your hands holding on hers as she looks down from you, one stair up to her house.

“We should do that again.”

“And again,” you say, your cheeks scrunching in a small smile as she nods.

There’s a comforting silence, a soft cool breeze blowing through your hair as she looks down at you from her step.

“Goodnight Y/N.”

“Goodnight Cairo,” you whisper, before leaning on your tippy toes to reach her lips. You kiss her softly before pulling away.

"Call me when you're safe cariño."

You keep kissing her, until you turn to leave. You were a few feet away from her after taking small steps as she watched you walk to your car on her driveway before turning around.

“Actually.. Can I stay the night here and cuddle?” you whisper, looking like a precious puppy with those eyes.

Cairo knew she couldn’t say no, she would do anything to spend time with you as she smiles widely, nodding.

You waddle up to her in happiness before jumping in her arms and kissing her again, making a small squeal as she giggles and carries you back into the comfort of her home.

#cairo sweet #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #tara carpenter x reader #vada cavell x reader #vada cavell x y/n #tara carpenter x you #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #wednesday addams x female reader

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beenbaanbuun · 4 months

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meet me in the woods w/ Mingi

words - 3.5k

genre - fluff, friends to lovers, college!au

warnings - emo!mingi, drummer!mingi, pink!mingi, fangirl!reader, kissing, mentions of seasonal depression, mentions of a broken ankle, reader is down bad, so is mingi, they’re both idiots in love, kind of groping but not really sexual

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there’s still a chill in the air as the seasons flip from winter to spring. it shows in the way the air around you fogs up with every breath you exhale and the way the skin of your exposed thighs pricks up in little bumps. realistically you should’ve worn a pair of jeans rather than a skirt, but that would defeat the point of this whole thing you had going on. a sort of good-riddance-to-winter protest, in which you try to ignore the fact that winter was very much still in play.

although you have to admit you may have been a little too eager. you claim to have your reasons to pretend that winter is already over, but even those reasons seem a little obsolete as you sit on the picnic table awning, shivering every few seconds. perhaps your way of saying goodbye to your particularly bad bout of seasonal depression will have to be shoved to the back of your closet for a few more weeks. just until you're sure you won’t get frostbite.

you shuffle back a few inches, just enough to give yourself room to swing your legs back onto the awning. you have to go down the way you came up; that was a lesson you’d learned the hard way. a broken ankle and a particularly long lecture from your mother about making ‘sensible decisions’ was not something you care to repeat. she, of course, would blow a fuse if she knew you still frequent this spot years later, but what she doesn’t know can’t hurt her. besides, you’re well trained in how to get up and down from your favourite thinking spot, now.

you already have one leg up when you hear a creek coming from behind you. your neck twists in time to see a hand slam itself down on the wooden surface, fingers splayed as they work their hardest to pull the attached body higher up. you recognise the rings like the back of your hand and as you watch mingi struggle, you can’t help but sigh.

“how many times have i told you how to get up here?” you grumble, loud enough for him to hear over his own strained grunts. the single hand that you can see moves until you can see a middle finger pointed in your direction, and you have to laugh, “you seriously can’t remember? right hand on the roof, left foot on the fence, and push yourself up.”

even without seeing his face you can tell he’s rolling his eyes at you. he’s heard this lecture from you a bajillion times before, and yet he never learns. it’s always right hand, right foot and pull with him - almost the exact opposite of how you instruct him.

“have you considered that i’m, like, twice the size of you?” he says as he corrects his form and finally manages to raise himself up. he swings his right knee onto the platform and rolls his gangly form onto it. you’ve seen more grace from a new-born horse, but you keep that to yourself as you watch him sit himself up and shuffle closer.

“if anything that would make it easier for you, y’know, since you don’t have to jump to reach the roof.”

you turn your body back to how it was, dropping your legs again so you can swing them over the ledge. the platform looks out over nothing but forest, and you quickly find a particular branch to focus your eyes on as the giant sits in his spot next to you. your hands subconsciously brush over the pair of initials that have been scratched into the wood when you were both teenagers. a small, neat set done with a whittling knife stolen from your father, sitting just beneath a much larger, much messier SMG that mingi had done with the biggest kitchen knife he could find. his mother never did discover how her carving knife missing for a few hours only to return to the knife block covered in moss and dirt.

“yeah, yeah,” he mutters as he drops his legs down to swing them at the side of yours. your pink sneakers look a little out of place besides his platform doc martin’s that he always wears, despite not needing the extra height, but somehow the contrast feels natural to you, “i thought i’d find you up here. went to your dorm to search for you but your roommate said you were out.”

“and you assumed i was here?” he nods, not bothering to look at you. he too has found a distant branch to focus on.

“where else would you be?” he nudges you with an elbow, “god knows you don’t go to your lectures…”

he’s right about that. you’d given up on college very early into freshman year, and yet you’re somehow still passing. not well, you have to admit, but enough to get a degree at the end of the year.

“my classes suck, mingi,” you clarify as you rip your focus away from that one specific branch. looking at the same thing was getting kind of boring, you realise, so instead you lay down on the dirty wood and stare up at the canopy. the february sun only just pokes through the fir-canopy, dousing you in just enough light to make your skin a little warmer. there was that heat you were hoping for earlier, “why would i go to them when clearly i can pass without?”

“fair point.”

you close your eyes, basking in the light that bathes you. there’s still a slight breeze that makes the fir needles rustle above you, a few of them raining down whenever a particularly strong gust comes along. one lands on your thigh, but it’s quickly brushed off and replaced by mingi’s warm hand. he must’ve been keeping it in the pocket of his oversized korn hoodie, you think to yourself as he squeezes your thigh.

the hoodie is an old favourite of yours. you’d bought it for him a couple of years ago, and it had soon joined what you like to call ‘the elites’ - the small collection of about three hoodies that he had in permanent rotation. it fit him better now than when you first bought it for him. he’d bulked up a lot, after all.

you still couldn’t get the sweet image of him opening the gift with a wide grin on his face out of your head.

he kissed your cheek on that day.

you always seem to blush at the memory.

“why did you come searching for me, anyway?” you say after a few moments of silence. his hand remains firm on your thigh, fingers drumming a rhythm against your leg gently, “don’t you have cooler people to be hanging out with?”

he hums, “all the cool people i know are busy today,” you swing your foot to the side to kick his shin. he lets out a laugh at the little tap - he knows you can kick harder than that - before giving your thigh a gentle tap in return, “besides, maybe i want to hear about all your little kpop groups.”

you scoff at him.

“no, you don’t.”

“no,” mingi agrees, “i don’t. but i do want to spend time with my favourite little fangirl.”

you giggle at him, opening your eyes just in time to see him turn to you with a wonky grin on his face. it seems he’s bored of staring at his branch too since his gaze doesn’t go back to it after a few seconds. it remains on you, boba-pearl pupils staring into your own as the rays of sun make them glisten.

he looks cute like this, you think to yourself. his short pink hair rustles as the wind blows it about. for a man who made so much fuss about the colour when you first dyed it, it has taken him a long time for him to go back to the bleach blonde that he loves so much. part of you likes to think it’s so he can match your own pastel pink hair - that’s a normal thing for best friends to do, right? - but you also know that he’s fiercely protective over his hair and definitely wouldn’t keep it just for your sake.

it needs a trim, you think to yourself as you watch it brush against his eyebrows. you wonder if he’ll let you do it again. he hated it the last time, so you assume the answer will be no. then again, there’s no harm in asking, right? you make a mental note to do so later, wanting nothing more than to see the same cute pout he wore last time you butchered his hair. it’s an expression that he only ever wears around you, much like that sweet smile he’d had moments prior. it’s a softness that he keeps close to his chest, a far cry from the cool exterior he tries to keep when he’s around everyone else. not that you mind the tougher side of him - it’s hot… really hot - but the sweet giggles and adorable nose scrunches will always be your favourite things about him.

“you said everyone else was busy?” you mutter, not bothering to break eye contact to go back to sunbathing. he takes the hint, and brings his legs fully onto the platform so he can face you fully. it’s much better, you think, this way you can see him more clearly, “what are they doing?”

he shrugs.

“i don’t know,” he begins to rub your thigh up and down subconsciously. he does it a lot when he’s talking. if it’s not your thigh - which it usually always is - then it’s his own, or the arm of a chair. it’s just something to keep his hands busy, you suppose, “i think some of the guys wanted to go over melodies, which they don’t need me for. jongho was saying he thinks it’d be cool if there’s a section where his voice and san’s guitar are kind of in sync? i don’t know, it sounds cool in theory but i don’t know if san’s guitar style necessarily matches jongho’s vocal style well enough to do that.”

you watch as his face lights up, just like it always does when he talks about music, or his band. he could talk about their newest ideas for hours, and most of the time you let him. you like to listen to the way his voice rises an octave when he gets excited, and watching his facial expressions never gets old. you love the way he talks with one hand, all while keeping the other firmly on your thigh; or his, or the arm of a chair. it’s nice to see him still so passionate about all the same things he was as a teenager. sometimes you’re even sure you can feel his excitement for him.

it feels an awful lot like butterflies in your stomach.

“and i mean, i know i’m just the drummer but,” you quirk your eyebrow at him and he stops himself talking. a pink flush rises over his face as he realises his slip up, “i didn’t mean just the drummer, i just meant that as the drummer, i don’t know as much about the music theory side as the guitarists do… i hit things, y’know?”

“you hit things very well, though,” you tease, using a manicured finger to poke at his knee. he catches it with the hand that isn’t occupied by your thigh and just holds onto it. its another thing he does a lot; not quite holding your hand, but definitely toeing the line, “and that’s coming from me!”

he rolls his eyes at you, and you were sure that if both his hands weren’t occupied with some other part of your body, he’d make the effort to lean forwards and place a finger over your lips to shush you. again, touching your lips like that it’s just something he does with you, just like almost holding your hands, and playing with your thighs. it’s all completely normal best friend stuff…

except you weren’t this touchy with any other guy. the last time you let a man get this close to you was when wooyoung tried to teach you guitar by moving your fingers into the correct positions for you. there was barely any contact between the two of you, and yet mingi sulked for days. part of you wanted to call it strange, but when you spotted him giving a pretty emo girl his drumsticks after a show, you gave him much of the same attitude.

you wouldn’t call it jealousy, per se, although maybe there was a little bit. mingi was your best friend after all. you have something special with him. something different that you have with no one else and you feel a way that you feel with no one else and-

oh.

suddenly the hand on your thigh felt very heavy, and you noticed the way his fingertips gently dip under the hem. had they been doing that the whole time? and you couldn’t help but feel like the way his thumb rubbed against the tip of your finger so softly had some type of further meaning behind it. not to mention the neutral yet unbelievably gentle look that took over his features, making him look even more pretty than usual in the scattered rays of light.

his lips were parted every so slightly, revealing that single wonky tooth that you found oh-so adorable. for a second you wondered what they would feel like against your skin, but you soon shunned the thought away as you remembered, oh yeah, the korn sweater. you’d felt them before. you know just how soft and gentle they are. it’s something that often plays on your mind and every time it does, you feel that same burst of excitement built up in your stomach. the one you get when mingi speaks about his passions. the one that feels like butterflies.

it is butterflies. fuck, it’s the whole damn zoo! a stampede of elephants charging though your body each and every time he does something that you find even mildly endearing. it just so happens that you find damn near everything he does endearing. you’d think those elephants would be tired of running by now…

“mingi,” you sigh, breath coming out in a plume of mist. you’d forgotten how cold it was in his presence. being around him just seemed to warm you up, “mingi, come here.”

he furrows his brow, but shuffles a tad closer. you almost groan in disappointment as he takes his hand away from your thigh, the skin immediately growing cold at the lost contact.

“what’s up, sunshine?” you feel em your eyes go wide at the nickname. you don’t know why; he uses it for you all the time.

“mingi, i’m confused… and a little scared,” you admit, although you didn’t know whether it was necessarily the truth. it was probably the closest word to describe how you were feeling though. with the way your heart was threatening to beat through your chest, and the way your stomach churned with nerves and the way your stupid brain had only just managed to catch up with how you had felt all along. it hurt, and it was painful and confusing and yeah, scared was probably a pretty good description.

“scared?” his voice grows serious as his eyes scan you up and down. once he sees that you’re fine physically, they return to your face. he looks just as confused as you feel, “what are you scared about? are you okay? hurt?”

you shake your head, taking in a deep, shaky breath. you let it out in yet another cloud of fog and watch at it floats away into nothing. you wish your butterflies, elephants, would do the same. it would make this whole thing so much easier.

“i’m fine, mingi,” you say, “just scared.”

“can you tell me why?” you nod, although it takes everything in you to do so.

“i want to kiss you,” you admit.

“kiss… me?”

you nod again, feeling a familiar heat rise to your face. the same one you get whenever mingi compliments you, or touches you. you can't believe it’s taken this long to finally figure it all out. it all feels so obvious now.

“i mean… yeah?” he stutters, “kiss me, yeah… yeah that sounds okay- i mean good! it sounds good… kissing, that is.”

if you weren’t feeling completely and utterly out of your depth, you’d have giggled at him. cutie pie you think to yourself before the heat in your body immediately gets more intense, and the elephants not only increase in number but in size too.

it’s now or never. before you can talk yourself out of it, you need to kiss him. because talking yourself out of it could be so easy. you could hop off of the awning, run back to your car and drive back to your dorm. sure, it would hurt when you would inevitably have to lock yourself away in embarrassment and never see mingi again, but time heals all wounds, right? and by the time you’re 50, the pain and embarrassment will have definitely almost healed over…

“so?” he mutters, pulling you back from the fantasy your brain had created, “are you going to do it?”

“i, uh…”

“i mean, i can if you want me to,” he shrugs, trying his hardest to play it cool as if he hadn’t been stuttering seconds prior. as if his face wasn’t just as pink as the mop of hair that sat atop it.

there is nothing cool about this man, you think to yourself as you push yourself into a sitting position. maybe that’s why you’re so attracted to him. his nerdy tendencies had tugged you in, and he’d worked his dorky little ways on you until you were hook line and sinker for him.

down bad, as the kids say. down so horrifically bad…

“i can do it,” you whisper as you look up at him with wide eyes. your lips are mere inches from his own, and his hot breath fans across your cold face. his eyes are on yours just briefly before they flicker down to your lips. they rested there for a second before making their way back up to yours, “i can kiss you,” you whisper.

“you can,” he mutters back, bringing his own face close enough to yours that you’re not even sure a sheet of paper would slip between the two of you. his tongue darts out to wet his own lips, gently brushing against yours too. your breath hitches as your last sliver of resolve vanishes. that’s it, you tell yourself, you can’t hold back anymore.

the tiny gap is closed as you press forwards, slamming your lips against his. your fingers shoot up to lace themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck, and his find a home on your waist. his eyelashes flutter against your face as he shuts his eyes, and you follow his lead, doing the same. it’s nice, you realise, the darkness letting you focus on how his lips feel moving slowly against your own. they fit perfectly, like they were always meant to be there.

he deepens the kiss briefly, tilting his head ever so slightly to get a better angle. it’s a little rougher at this angle, but you can’t find it in you to mind as he takes control. the desperation you feel from him as he moves his lips harshly against your own was something you feel yourself, so you let him take what he needs, taking just as much in return.

and by the time he pulls away, you’re both panting. rapid and hard and together. his lips have barely left your own as he catches his breath, but you don’t pull back either.

“fuck,” he mumbles against your lips, “that was… nice?”

“yeah,” you agree. ‘nice’ seems the best way to describe it, although it was so much more than just that, “it was nice, wasn’t it?”

“so nice, sunshine,” he says. a few beats of a silence pass before he presses his lips against yours again, this time for a much shorter, much more innocent peck. you can’t help but giggle as he pulls away. there’s a grin on his face too, “wish we’d done it sooner, though.”

you nod, “yeah, me too.”

“but we have all the time in the world, right?”

he pecks you again. this one lasts a few milliseconds longer than the last, not that you’re counting. when he pulls away, you chase it. another peck, this time led by you, but equally as brief as the other two. it’s his turn to chuckle.

“cute,” he grins, “you’re so cute.”

you get shy under his words and pull back just a tad. the grip he has on your waist refuses to let you go too far from him. you don’t mind; not at all. the fact he wants you so close actually sends the elephants feral. you feel them reach up to your heart to work their magic on that too. it probably isn’t healthy for it to beat at the speed that it is, but you really can’t help it. the elephants seem to respond to mingi and mingi alone. you don’t mind that either.

not at all.

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #mingi fluff #mingi scenarios #mingi x reader #mingi fanfic

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lucid-loves · 5 months

Text

Taste Like Venom ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 1

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x assassin!reader (fem!reader, no use of y/n, callsign “Hex”)

Word Count: 3.4k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, enemies to friends to lovers trope, slow burn, plot, clear attraction and sexual tension, smut later on, reader POV and ghost POV, minors dni, Soap lives in this AU

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Synopsis: After Makarov gets away again, Laswell decides to force a favor from you, the world’s greatest assassin and best-kept secret. You are now expected to help the 141 with taking down Makarov in addition to playing nice with them. It’s hard to play nice when you have always worked alone. It doesn’t help that one of the team members, Ghost, gets curious about you with each interaction.

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10

You’ve always been a light sleeper, if you could even be called that. The truth was that you hardly slept at all. Bedtime was always more like cat-nap time. Light, soundless, ready to pounce at the sound of dust falling to the floor. That’s how you trained yourself and the habit stuck, even if you don’t take missions anymore. It was hard to deprogram a killing machine.

The two years have been peaceful even if you were always on edge. Semi-retirement has been kind in only giving you the sounds of the forest trees in the wind, the gentle rush of the creek, birds singing every morning, and most importantly, no visitors. The world didn’t know that you existed and you preferred to keep it that way for as long as you could. While you did feel the phantom blood dripping down your hands every now and then to an unsettling reminiscent degree, you did like this little slice of heaven that was your off-grid cabin. It was a good place to be before you undoubtedly go to hell in the end.

You were in your bed when you heard the rustling of the forest floor just outside your window. Steps. But not the steps belonging to a fox or bear you have learned to recognize over time. These were the steps of a man. No, multiple men. The way the foot falls of a man walking is an undeniable melody you have heard thousands of times. In the dead of night, you bolted up out of bed and reached for your throwing knife and a pistol, always kept at your bedside. Like a thief in your own home, you silently followed the sounds outside along the walls until you reached the living room. They were going to come in through the front door.

Under the cover of darkness, you readied your aim at the door. To your surprise, they were messing with the keypad that locked your house down, inputting codes with a subtle click and then beep of a correct code. No one should know the code except for two people. Laswell and yourself.

As soon as the door revealed moonlight and a silhouette, you fired your gun. A warning shot. Grazing right past neck. The men stopped and immediately aimed their own rifles, but the one in front held his hand up in surrender. Following orders, the rifles were lowered. You were the first to speak, your voice dripping with venom. “State your purpose and maybe I won’t kill you all where you stand.”

A gentle yet deep Liverpudlian accent voiced back. “Easy now. We don’t mean harm. Laswell sent us here. Code Swan.”

“Song?” You replied, your muscles still tense, unwilling to lower your defenses until the full code was complete. It is what ensured both yours and Laswell’s safety.

“Black Death.” He replied back. You stayed in position for a few moments before finally sighing and lowering your weapon. You turned on a table lamp next to you to get a better look at the intruders. Four men stood in your doorway. One with a fishing hat, one with a mohawk, one with a baseball cap, and one with a skull mask. They were all tall, big with muscle, and seemingly not American from their patches. An interesting bunch to say the least.

“Fucking Laswell.” You cursed Kate’s name. She should have contacted you about this. You were just about to paint the porch with her mens’ brains. You hated surprises. You often killed them before finding out the intentions.

With a wave of your hand, you invited the men to come into your cabin. They cautiously came in, surveying the layout and now understanding what Kate meant when she said that you were “belligerent.”

You turned on the main lights and tried to get a fire going to relieve some of the autumn chill that had crept through the house. Their leader began to unload his things on the kitchen table, sighing from the weight relief. His men joined in, save for one. You could feel his eyes on you as you encouraged the fire. You didn’t even have to look back to know that he was watching your every move.

“It’s rude to stare.” You warned curtly as you stood and turned. The man in the skull mask and balaclava didn’t avert his gaze.

His voice was rich and gruff like gaboon ebony. His Manchester accent came clear as day. “You’re half naked.”

He was referring to the large band shirt and boyshort panties that you were wearing. What did he expect from someone that thought that enemies were breaking in? You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “I’m in my pajamas. Besides, a good soldier shouldn’t get distracted by any amount of nudity.”

His blue eyes narrowed at your dig. He was a good soldier. An excellent soldier actually. One of the best. But excellent, good, or bad, no one would be able to resist staring at your figure. The exposed thighs, the large neckline of the shirt hanging off your shoulder, various scars scattered across skin like an abstract painting. He’s never seen anyone like you before.

Too bad you had a combative mouth.

Before he could get a word in, you had walked off into the kitchen, not bothering to go get pants on. It was your home for fuck’s sake. Besides, there were more pressing matters than your clothes or lack thereof.

You began to pull out all the food you had out of your fridge. Everything from deli meat to leftover lasagna was being laid out on the large quartz island. You weren’t going to heat anything up or make something new, but the laid out spread would be enough. You weren’t a completely heartless host. Just a bare minimum one.

Once the food was out for pickings, you headed back near the dining room, leaning against the doorframe. The boys had maps, blueprints, and laptops covering every surface of your table. Your beautiful, hand-made pine table. This was to be their new safehouse for now. Hopefully not for too long.

“Captain, it’s connecting now.” The one with the mohawk called out. The captain came right over to greet the screen.

“Laswell, can you hear us?”

“Loud and clear, John. Did everything go well?” Kate chipperly asked. You haven’t heard her voice in a long while. You almost forgot how nice her voice actually was.

“She nearly shot my fuckin’ neck off.” Mohawk-guy grumbled.

Kate gave a light, short laugh. “Sounds like it went smoothly then. The best that it could be. She there?”

All four men looked up to you, expecting you to come over and face Laswell through the screen. However, you stayed where you were. Instead, you spoke loud enough for your friend to hear. “Kate Laswell.”

“Hex, I’m sorry that I couldn’t warn you about this beforehand. You know I wouldn’t have done this if it wasn’t an emergency situation.” She began to apologize and justify. It was always an apology followed by a justification. You wondered if she even ever means her apologies, but in the end, you never really cared enough. However, now it is different.

“I don’t exist, Kate. And now four new people know that I do. . .” You retorted back.

It was silent for a moment, the tension in the air thick. She was on the other side of the screen, but it felt like you were going to get into a physical fight with her anyways. “They’re trustworthy. I trust them with my life and the lives of millions upon millions. Just like I trust you. And as the only people that I trust, I need you to help them.”

“They have already taken over my home. What more do you want from me?” You clenched your jaw, trying to prepare yourself for an answer you probably wouldn’t like. Like hell were you going to play dorm mother to them and like hell you were going to just move out. The last thing you wanted was to take care of these men longer than necessary. This was already pushing that line for you.

“Athame.” She bluntly said. That was the worst answer she could have said. The confused looks the men gave each other made you grateful for a fleeting second. They didn’t understand your secret codes and languages. But they will soon.

Your jaw was clenched so hard that your teeth ached. You damn near cracked them. While your voice before was dripping with venom, it was now drowning in it. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Hex, I-”

You finally came over, nearly pushing the captain out of the way in your warpath. Through the screen, Kate could see how angry you were. Not just angry, furious. She steeled herself, ready for your onslaught of curses, stopping herself midway through her explanation. “I don’t do this shit, Kate! I work solo for a very particular fucking reason. And now you want me to work with four strange men?! Now you want me to play nice?! I’m not a fucking soldier that can just be ordered around!”

“I know! I know. . . But. . . we’re desperate. I’m desperate, Hex. Please, this is the last favor I will ever ask from you. This is an awful target we’re talking about. Someone that is better off in this world dead.”

“You mean Makarov, right? Why should I clean up your government’s fuck-up? Again, might I add.” You spat. You lived off the grid and weren’t a citizen of anywhere, but you still watched the news. You always knew what was going on in the world among other secrets. Makarov was a threat to the world, but as far as you were concerned, it wasn’t your problem. If anything, the government needed this lesson as a direct consequence of their negligence and incompetence.

“Because Chalice.” She simply stated, knowing that her final word was a last ditch effort. Chalice was an agreement that you two had made long ago. It could only be used once in your lives, a truly desperate resort for help. If one of you uttered it, then the other would have no choice but to help, no matter the request. That was the law between your friendship, among other things. The other code words were favors, but this was the ultimate one. Life or death.

You considered punching the laptop in anger. Right at Kate’s face. You didn’t like her call for Athame or Chalice, but now you didn’t have a choice but to comply. It didn’t mean that you weren’t still furious though. “Fuck you, Kate.”

“Thank you, Hex.” She breathed a sigh of relief. She wanted to tell you more about what she needed from you, but she knew that you had to cool off first otherwise you would burst into flames. That would've made things harder for all of you. So, she nodded as a signal for dismissal which you gladly took. You retreated to your room, locking the door shut and basking in the darkness.

You could feel the blood boil within you. It burned your insides and choked you. Grabbing your pillow, you pressed it against your face and screamed out your frustration. When that didn’t help, you punched the exposed logs of your cabin wall until your knuckles were splintered and bleeding.

Ghost sat on the couch, his thoughts swirling with uncertainty. The rest of the meeting with Laswell was brief, wanting them to try to decompress for the next several hours. Sleep, eat, process. All in the comfort of an assassin’s home.

Compared to your personality, the cabin was decorated warmly. Everything was cozy, earthy, and fresh. The fire crackled comfortably, the plush couch was broken in, and every wooden piece of furniture looked hand-made. Bookshelves were filled with classic books and another shelf collected various music records. The only thing that seemed out of place was the lack of real personal mementos. No pictures, no art, not even knick-knacks. The others didn’t seem to notice or care as they picked through the food left in the kitchen. But for Simon, it left him uneasy.

He recalled the briefing before they were sent to the middle of nowhere to you. Kate said that you were an old friend of hers from high school. You have been friends ever since, but you were different than most people. You were a deadly assassin unknown by the world. No records, no pictures, not even a birth certificate. You handled delicate problems with grace and grave justice. You always worked alone, you didn’t trust others, and you were deadly. Everything about you was a secret until Kate made the crucial choice to ask for your help. Hell, they didn’t even know your call sign until Kate said it over the video call.

“You should eat, Lt. There’s a lot of options, but they’re dwindling fast.” Soap patted him on the shoulder, awakening him from deep thought. Ghost looked up at the sergeant, watching him stuff a sandwich into his mouth. It looked like all the deli meat from one packet was in between the bread. No lettuce or tomato.

“In a bit. I’m gonna talk to Hex real quick and ask some questions.” He replied and got up from the couch.

Soap swallowed nervously. “Kate said that she’s gonna need time to cool off. . .”

“Our new member is part of the team now. She’s gonna have to get used to us even if she wants time for herself.” He justified it with a shrug of his shoulders. Soap shook his head and walked back into the kitchen, knowing that what Simon was about to do was most likely going to be a bad idea.

Ghost walked down the hall, observing each door as he passed them. Most of them were slightly open revealing extra bedrooms, an office, and a bathroom. Only two of them remained closed, both locked with keypads. For a second, he wondered which bedroom was yours before he could hear the sound of light music behind one of them along with swearing. It made him wonder what was behind the other door that was locked down.

Deciding to let it go for now, he approached your door and knocked. “Hex, open up.”

He heard you let out a frustrated groan before the door opened up. It was only just enough to see you, the pure darkness behind you, and the blood dripping down your fists. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and quirked a brow that you couldn’t see behind the mask. It didn’t take a genius to realize what you had done. “Are you done throwing a temper tantrum?”

You scowled at him, a fire in your eyes that made Simon’s heart skip a beat which confused him. He wasn’t afraid of you, so why would his heart alter its beat for you?

“If I knew that you were just going to insult me, I would’ve shot you dead on my porch.” You bitterly snapped, moving to close the door in his face. However, Ghost stopped it from slamming and took your hand in his, observing the damage you’ve done to yourself.

Your breath caught in your throat. Electricity ran through you at his touch. When was the last time someone has touched you? You attempted to pull back, but his hand firmly gripped yours. “Hey! What the fuck? Let go of me!”

“Calm down and let me see. It hurts, doesn’t it? Stings?”

You narrowed your eyes, but eventually nodded. It did sting and the dripping blood already stained your carpet. However, you could take care of it yourself. You didn’t need some man coming in to try to fix you. “I’ll be fine. I can tend to it myself.”

“First aid in the bathroom?” He asked, seeming to ignore your clear hint that you wanted to be alone.

Understanding that he probably wouldn’t drop this until he saw gauze around your knuckles, you headed to the hall bathroom with a huff, opened up the cabinet, and took out the first aid kit. You then took a seat at the edge of the tub and began patching yourself up. Every now and then you looked up towards the doorway, making sure that the skull man was watching you take care of yourself. Without his help. Without anyone’s help.

Finally, your hands were wrapped and the bleeding had stopped. You held up your hands towards him. “Happy now? Will you leave me alone now?”

“Hex.” Ghost simply said as a warning. God, you were infuriating. An attitude problem was something he would normally be able to snuff out immediately. He did it all the time when training new soldiers. Not you though. New soldiers were like little candles, easily blown out of their fire with just a breath. You? You were like a raging forest fire. One that clearly had its own traumas over years of service that the world may never know.

You didn’t like how he studied you. How his eyes trained on you were a mix between hatred, curiosity, and something else that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. A magnetic pull that begged for you to look at him too. You also didn’t like how he was trying to treat you like one of his rookie soldiers. The only thing you wanted to do to make it all stop was to push him away. “Don’t talk to me like some new recruit straight out of school. I’ve already earned my place in the world with the amount of scars I have. So, don’t treat me like I’m under you. I won’t even let your captain talk to me like that.”

After putting the first aid back where it belonged, you attempted to leave the bathroom and retreat back to your bedroom. Yet, Ghost wasn’t giving up just yet. His hold body blocked the bathroom exit. He was tall, strong, and sturdy. It wasn’t hard for him to completely fill up the space. However, that didn’t intimidate you. You got up close, and looked straight into those icy blues. Even with the black warpaint, you could tell that his lashes were meant to be blonde. Some of the paint had flecked off revealing some true color. You wondered what the rest of his face looked like for a second. Just a second.

You stood your ground, engaging in a heated staring contest. It was like lightning crackling between the two of you. After a while though, Simon finally gave in and held his hand up like a handshake. “Lieutenant. They call me Ghost.”

Hesitantly, you took his hand and firmly shook it, refusing to back down from a battle of wills. “Hex. That’s all you will know me by.”

Suddenly, he pulled you in closer, your chest almost touching his. On instinct, you pulled a knife from the waistband of your underwear. It was the one you took with you earlier for the showdown at the door. You held it to his neck, blade dipping in until you could feel the push back of skin. Ghost didn’t flinch or jump back at your defense. Instead, he whispered into your ear that he wanted to get close to in the first place. “As hard as you may try to fight it, you’re going to know me. And I’m going to know you.”

You bit back the shiver that went down your spine from the whisper, aching to slice his throat in retaliation. Chalice had you pinned, though. You had to avoid killing the people you are going to be working with at the very least.

Ghost slowly backed up and headed back towards the kitchen for some food, leaving you to process what just happened. You silently walked back to your room without looking back at him, ears turning red and heart racing unnaturally. You didn’t want to give him any satisfaction by giving him any more attention. However, Simon was already somewhat satisfied.

Yet, there was a part of him that wanted more.

Soap was eating a piece of lasagna when he walked in. Gaz and Price were quietly conversing at the other end of the island. It took a lot of food to fill up men like them. It wouldn’t take long for them to eat you out of your house and home unfortunately.

“So, how did it go?” Soap nosely inquired. As Simon surveyed the food before picking out a tupperware full of stew, he shrugged casually.

“She almost sliced my head off.”

Soap suppressed a chuckle and did his best impersonation of Laswell. “Sounds like it went smoothly then.”

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spaceshipellie · 1 year

Text

easy mode (smut)

ellie williams x reader

minors do not interact!! 18+ content

brief summary: smut with plot. reader is terrible at video games but gf ellie offers a ‘reward’ if you complete it.

cw: ellie being a tease, fingering and eating out (r receiving)

note: this is the first smut i’ve ever posted so please be nice lol i hope you enjoy!

faintly beneath the sound of music coming from the speaker that sat beside you whilst you painted, you could hear ellie’s curses and game rage from the next room.

she was probably playing that apocalypse game again. you really wanted to try but knew you were shit at any video games involving shooting and aiming.

however, you couldn’t distract yourself from her voice, and after staring at the same corner of your artwork, you decided to give up and pack the stuff away. you were in a restless mood for some reason. you either needed to move and go for a walk or get some attention from your girlfriend. if you were being entirely honest, right now you’d rather have the latter.

after packing away the paints, you crept quietly to the door of ellie’s game room. hearing you come in, she quickly took a glance at you before averting her eyes back to her screen.

“hey babe,” she said. you were right. she was playing that game.

“hey.” you took a seat on the sofa next to her set up, scrolling aimlessly on your phone. engrossed in the game, she continued playing, under the breath curses filling the room.

after a few minutes you hear the creek of her chair as she turned to face you, game paused.

“you okay?” she rolled her chair forward slightly so she could poke your leg with her foot.

“yeah.” you adjusted how you were sat to sit forwards, pulling her closer by her knees, leaning on them and looking up at her. she smiled down at you and brushed a piece of hair behind your ear.

“what’s up, baby?”

“nothing, i just got bored of what i was doing and wanted to see you.”

she leant down and kissed you. she had that little smirk on her face before pulling your arms up to wrap around her neck, subsequently pulling you up from the sofa all together so she could hook her hand around the back of your thigh and pull you onto straddling her lap. the way she sits back in her game chair and looks slightly up at you like this was ridiculously hot.

her hands find their place on your hips and she leans into you to kiss you again. slightly more heated than the one before.

“you wanna play with me?” she says after you both pull away, fingers toying with the hem of your jumper, slipping under it.

“you know i’m crap at games like that.” you laugh.

“i’ll help you.”

“you’ll get frustrated at me.”

“no i won’t,” she pretended to be offended. “come on, babe, it’ll be fun.” she pulls you tighter to her, arms fully wrapping around your waist.

“okay.” you kiss her. hands on her cheeks. “okay fine, but i’m warning you, i’ll be stuck on the same part forever.”

she laughs and playfully pats your ass as you get off her to sit in the chair next to her. the arms of your chairs bump into each other as she picks up the controller and leans into you.

“okay so this is to move, crouch, run, look around, aim, and shoot,” she says, pointing and toggling with the various buttons. she looks at you and smiles at your slight wide eyed expression.

“you got it?”

“uh, yeah,” you take the controller from her. “so move, crouch…”

“that’s run.”

“okay, run, crouch?”

“yep.”

“look arou- no, shit that’s move.. look around, aim, and shoot,” you beam looking up at her, excited that you got it right, and she’s already looking at you.

“well done, babe. now you have to play,” she says putting a hand on your knee that’s touching hers.

“okay okay okay,” you repeat, sucking in a breath.

“you don’t have to be nervous.”

“i know! i just get stressed, everything happens so fast, i can’t coordinate my hands.”

she laughs at your rambling and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek.

“right, ready?”

“yes-no! wait,” you say abruptly before she can hit ‘play.’

“what?”

“can you put it on easy mode?”

she smirks at you.

“to start with at least?” you give her a pleading look.

“sure. right, ready now?”

“yeah.”

she hits play and immediately you start making the character run around aimlessly, not really sure what to do.

“do i want to be looking for stuff right now? or is someone going to come out and shoot me?”

“you wanna explore this bit and find supplies and ammo and stuff,” she explains.

“will someone come out and attack me?”

“maybe.”

“fuck.”

“it’s okay,” she laughs again.

you played for a moment just running around exploring the abandoned buildings.

“you missed some stuff in there,” ellie pointed.

“oh, how do you know?”

“when you get kinda close to stuff it shimmers a bit meaning you can interact with it, see?” she says as you get closer to the items.

“oh yeah, i see, thanks.”

“now you should be able to craft some stuff if you press this button.”

“okay, what should i do?”

“bombs are helpful and arrows.”

“how do i know when i need to craft stuff?”

“you see up here,” ellie points on the screen, “it says how many items you need of what to make something, so after you’ve picked up a few things or if you’re about to be fighting some guys then check if you can make anything.”

“okay, thanks,” you smile, feeling like you’re getting the hang of it and make the character walk through a crack in the fence.

“this is fun–oh fuck fuck no,” you blurted out seeing that this new area was covered in people.

you hear ellie laughing next to you. “okay you’re going to have to probably stealth and kill a few guys through here.”

“what do i do?”

“first go behind that car or something and crouch… yep, good, now figure out how you want to go about it.”

you looked at her a bit dumbfounded and panicky. she looked at you, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“i have no idea how to go about it, help.”

“you’re so cute.”

you shoot her a sarcastic smile. “ellie… help.”

“okay, if it were me i would stealth around as much as possible and try and take out a few of them like that. sometimes you can do the whole thing like that but no offence, baby,” she looks at you, “i don’t think you will be able to do that. but it’ll take out a few of them first before you get spotted and they start firing.”

“oh my god, okay. what about the bombs i just made?”

“yeah you can lay some around and hopefully they’ll walk into them.”

“okay.”

“you got this,” she said, hearing the nerves in your voice. she’s enjoying this too much.

you started to sneak up behind one guy.

“okay okay okay, don’t fucking move,” you muttered. you pressed the button to stealth kill and succeeded without being caught.

“ahh i did it!”

“good job babe.” you blushed at ellie’s praise. she was leaning back in her chair but moved a hand to rub your waist briefly.

you managed to kill another guy in stealth mode but at the last second got caught and the other guys started firing.

“fuck me, fuck no, no, shit, shit,” you yelled, desperately trying to run behind a wall.

“am i saf– no! oh god no,” you said as shots came at you from another angle and you got hit a few times, your health flashing red.

ellie leaned forward in her seat. “you need to run away, babe.”

“i’m trying.”

you ran but in your panic you kept bumping into things and getting hit with shots.

“there’s too many of them, i’m-oh my god, fuck this shit.”

“hide behind something to heal yourself.”

“i can’t, they’re everywhere, stop, oh my god,” you slammed pause in a panic, “ellie i can’t.”

she laughed at your struggling. “you can, i mean you’re probably going to die here but it’ll start at the beginning of the fight.”

“so those two guys i killed i’ll have to do again?”

“yes.”

“that’s so unfair,” you pouted.

“that’s the way it goes,” she was still smiling devilishly at you.

you laughed, putting the controller down and leant your hands on her knees. “i don’t know why i get so scared, like it’s actually happening to me.”

she leant forward and kissed you. “it’s fine, just try not to get caught so quickly.”

“oh thanks, that’s so helpful,” you said sarcastically.

“i know, i am.”

“okay, right, i’m going again.” you said, getting situated back in your seat. “i’m going to just let myself die and try again because i’m fucked.”

you tried again and got further than you did last time before dying again.

pausing, you turned to look at ellie, who once again had leaned back in her chair, watching you. her eyes just shifted from the screen to your face, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards.

“you’re doing good, i swear.”

“i think i’m getting the hang of it,” you said looking back at the screen.

“well, you are on easy mode,” she teased. you snapped your head around so fast.

“fuck you,” you laughed, playfully pushing her arm. “i’ve never played this before.”

“you’ve watched me play a hundred times.”

“yes but that’s not the same,” you said, leaning back in your own chair, level with her.

“you’re saying you never learnt anything from that?” she said in mock horror.

“probably paying too much attention to you,” you smirked to yourself.

“oh yeah?”

“you’re sexy when you play video games,” you looked at her, trying to stop your smile from widening so much as you leant forward again, ready to press play.

her tongue poked the inside of her cheek, eyes looking over you. suddenly, you yelped as you felt her grab you and pull you back, slightly twisted due to the chair arms but the top of your back pressed into her chest and she buried her face into your neck, attacking it with kisses, arms wrapped around you.

“you’re sexy when you game too,” she mumbled, smiling at the sound of your laughter.

“sorry i thought playing on easy mode wasn’t good enough for you,” you teased.

she groaned into your neck before bringing her lips up to your ear. “if you get through this fight scene, i’ll reward you.”

your stomach flipped. “reward me how?”

ellie kissed behind your ear and slid one of her hands down to your inner thigh. “however you want, babe.”

“right, this is serious now, don’t distract me.” you ordered, reluctantly pulling yourself out of her grip but oh god did you want that reward.

she laughed at your change in demeanour, enjoying how wrapped around her little finger you are.

you were extra frustrated now when you died again.

“fuck,” you muttered under your breath.

“you can do it, baby. go on,” you could hear the smirk in ellie’s voice without even looking at her.

“shut up.”

you were trying so hard not to die. you didn’t even care if you were severely injured by the time this section was cleared, you just had to clear it. ellie was mostly silent through this, obeying your “don’t distract me” statement. eventually, the music shifted and the character on screen said “i think that’s it” and your stomach flipped again.

“i did it,” you said to yourself before whipping around in your chair to look at ellie. “baby, i fucking did it.”

she was already looking at you, her smile playful and wicked. she leaned forward, keeping her face close to yours. “you fucking did it.”

“can i have my reward now?” you asked, not realising that your voice was going to quiver like it did.

“you can. what reward would you like?”

she’s such a shit. she knows exactly what you want but she’s going to make you ask for it.

“i think you know.”

“i think i do,” she said, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, “but i’d like to hear you say it.”

“i fucking hate you.”

“i love you too.”

“ellie.”

“yes, baby.”

“i want you to touch me.”

you could cut the tension with a knife. her tempting lips were just inches from yours, but you knew she was in a teasing mood, which you didn’t mind.

“how do you want me to touch you?” her voice was more hushed and lower than before. you couldn’t help but shift in your seat.

you gently took her hand in yours and played with her fingers, lifting them and kissing them. you looked straight into her eyes. “with your fingers, please.”

you could tell how the ‘please’ made ellie feel immediately. two could play at this game. although, she’ll probably still win.

you kissed the pad of her thumb, knowing she would push it gently between your lips. her hand found its place on your jaw. she ran her thumb over your bottom lip, eyes looking between your lips and your eyes.

“anything else?” she asked.

“maybe your mouth, too.” you said sweetly. her eyes darkened at your deliberate innocent tone and she took a moment before slowly closing the small space between you. her lips met yours in a soft, plush kiss, hand still holding your jaw.

“like that?”

“yes please.”

she laughed darkly for a second and kissed you again, hungrier than before, her hand sliding from your jaw to the back of your head.

“come here,” she mumbled into the kiss. you moved out of your seat, and climbed onto her lap. her other hand eagerly pulled you as close as you could be to her. your hands found themselves running between her shoulders and her hair.

you moaned into the kiss. she let out a “fuck,” as she stood up, carrying you with her, your legs wrapping around her waist. she hastily moved towards the sofa you were sat on earlier and laid you down, never breaking the kiss. her body weight on top of you, lying in between your legs was delicious, no matter how many times it happened.

one arm supported her weight, the other glided up under your top, fingers teasing the curve of your boob. she started to kiss down your neck whilst also shoving your top further up, until she was kissing your bare stomach up towards your chest.

“lift up,” she whispered, yanking your top off. her hand immediately went to your boob as she started kissing and playing with the other.

“you did so well, baby.”

your back arched into her.

“my good fucking girl.”

your hand went to her face. “ellie.”

“what is it?” she looked up at you.

“i need you.”

“you have me, don’t worry.”

she kissed you again before shuffling down, hands never not touching you somewhere. lips grazing your skin. she hooked her fingers into your sweats, kissing your skin at the hem. you squirmed beneath her and she looked up at you.

“you worked up, baby?”

“yes,” you stuttered out.

“good.” she simply said before continuing leaving wet kisses on your exposed skin, slowly pulling your sweats down. she peeled them off your ankles and tossed them across the room.

she knelt on the floor and wrapped her hands around your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the sofa. she held your legs open, leaving kisses on your inner thigh.

“so pretty.”

ellie took her time touching and kissing everywhere but there. your hand went down to run through her hair lightly, getting impatient.

it made your body jolt when she licked a line up your cunt. her fingers rubbed gentle circles on your thighs whilst she worked her tongue on your clit.

your hand tightened its grip in her hair and you moaned, your body writhing. her hands tightened trying to keep you in place and keep your legs open for her.

she sucked on your clit, leaving it sensitive and admired her work before glancing up at you, smirking at the sight of your hands now pinching your nipples. one of her fingers delicately ran a length up your cunt, circling your clit slowly. your body jolted again at the new form of touch. her finger played around at your entrance.

“you did such a good job at the game,” ellie said sweetly, “although i also enjoy watching you struggle.” she laughs to herself. her finger traced up to your clit again. the mix of her praise and teasing was torture. she was enjoying just sitting there, having your legs spread so she could play with your pussy.

“i like you helping me.”

“you do?” she added slightly more pressure.

“yes.”

“i like teaching you.”

she pushed two fingers in, the abruptness making you whimper. her eyes were glued to your face for a moment whilst she moved her fingers in and out, deep and slow.

“oh fuck,” you moaned.

“that’s it, good girl.” ellie said before attacking your clit with her tongue, the combination driving you insane.

her tongue flicked and her fingers continued the way they were, the rhythm making your stomach knot and your toes curl.

“fuck ellie,” you moaned. your back arched and she held your hips down firmly with her free hand.

she kept going until you could feel yourself about to cum. your moans and whimpers got louder and you let out a cry before your body softened and went limp. ellie continued licking and moving her fingers at a slower rhythm to make sure you were definitely done.

your hand moved some hair out of her face and she withdrew and looked up at you, slowly removing her fingers.

she came up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on her lips mumbling suggestively, “what game do you want me to help you play next?”

#ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou #ellie williams x you #ellie x y/n #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #the last of us #ellie smut #ellie imagine #tlou part 2

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celtic-crossbow · 3 months

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Blood Ties Chapter 20

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Graphic depictions of illness; allusions to major medical procedure; accidental violence (m on f); allusions to child abuse

A/N: Finally. I make no excuses and a lot of apologies. Daryl is going through it right now but it's not just my normal whump. Reader gets to find herself again. I say that as vaguely as possible but you'll see at the end and in coming chapters.

A day and a half. A full fucking thirty six hours. The group still hadn’t returned. While it was logical to be concerned for their safety, you just couldn’t seem to look any further than the man on the bed no more than a foot in front of you. His fever raged and his breathing deteriorated, shallow rattles and painful fits of coughing. Still, those were less distressing than the moments he would wake, not remembering where or when he was.

During one such episode, you had been a peer from school. An innocent girl who had followed him home one day to catch crawdads in the creek behind his house. His one friend that he had to hide in the crawlspace until he could get his father to beat on him instead of looking for you. He didn’t have any friends. You were special, he said. The bruises were worth it.

Of all the ways to get Daryl to talk about what had happened to him, this wasn’t what you had expected.

To make matters worse, he had become violent, waking in a rage that no one could understand. He was swinging punches and trying to leave the bed, Lori holding you away from him while Hershel of all people tried to subdue him alone. It was the grating of his own voice against his throat that had brought on the coughing, the force of which had eventually tired him out.

You had appreciated the concern but had asked Lori not to come between you and Daryl again. Though she had retreated in a huff, Carol later assured you that she was only concerned for the safety of you and the baby. She wasn’t angry and she wasn’t judging Daryl for something over which he had no control.

Things were quiet at the moment. You hummed and carded your fingers through the archer’s hair. He had been sleeping without interruption for a little over an hour, but his breaths were seeming even more labored.

You were beyond exhausted. Two or three hours of sleep, barely eating between bouts of nausea, you were nearly to the point of being confined to that sickbed right alongside Daryl.

“How’re the patients?”

You didn’t lift your head, only your eyes. “Baby and I are fine. Daryl sounds worse than when you were here earlier.”

“Let’s take a look at you two and then I’ll examine Daryl.”

There was no point in arguing. You didn’t have the energy. Sitting up straight in the chair, your back protested from the time spent bowed over the edge of the mattress, but you continued the journey to relax against the backrest. Your hand never released Daryl’s.

Hershel motioned toward your sweater in a silent request for permission and received a mumbled knock yourself out in reply. Baby Dixon was still for the moment after hours of kicking and rolling and seemingly trying to fit a foot between your ribs. The veterinarian smiled gently upon removing the stethoscope and rolling down your sweater. You were grateful for the small gesture, likely would have left it up if he hadn’t taken the initiative.

“Heartbeat’s strong. Seems to be doing just fine according to my limited knowledge. You really should get some rest yourself. Eat something, drink more.” His stethoscope was already nearing Daryl’s chest when you noticed it; the twitch of a hand before fingers curled into a fist.

“Daryl, no!” You weren’t meaning to hurt the old man, inwardly wincing when you heard the thud of his body hit the floor. You were just quick enough to shove him out of the way, Daryl’s fist barely grazing your cheek instead. “Hey, you’re okay. It’s Y/N. You’re sick.” You kept your voice soft, right next to his ear, holding him firmly in a way he couldn’t escape in his weakened state.

“Hershel! Y/N!” Carol and Lori burst into the room, Beth just behind them. You heard the girl begin to cry and tend to her father but the other two were quiet.

“Where—dunno—can’t think—”

“I know, Daryl. It’s the fever.” He was coughing into your shoulder, his skin hot and dry where it touched yours. “You’re safe. I’m here. Thumper’s here.” The archer made a sound in his throat and by some miracle, you knew what it meant. Otherwise keeping your hold on him, you fumbled for his hand and pressed it firmly to the side of your belly. “Feel that? You woke them up too.” Your lip was wobbling, your voice threatening to do the same. “They just want their daddy to rest now so they can too. How ‘bout it, hmm?”

You pulled back slowly, steeling yourself for whatever it was you would see in his eyes. You almost whimpered when there was nothing short of exhausted recognition.

“D’I hurt—”

Your cheek burned and felt wet, but you shook your head. No, you wouldn’t tell him while he was like that. “I tripped. Face-planted. You definitely would have laughed.” He didn’t believe you, that much was obvious, but thank heavens for Thumper and a well placed punt straight to Daryl’s palm. His reaction was sluggish, head bowing to watch his hand rub circles over that spot.

“Hey, kid. Go—easy on—your mama.”

“How about you go easy on their mama too and drink some water for me?” With your hand behind his head, you slowly guided him to his mountain of pillows. “Just a bit, okay?” He gave no answer. His palm continued to caress your bump. You wondered if he would still be so affectionate once he realized you weren’t alone in the room.

With one hand raising his head slightly, the other tipped the cup to lips. He didn’t drink as much as you’d hoped but it was something. His eyes were closed but his fingers remained steady, curling and straightening over where you could feel the ripples of movement. It was as if they could sense one another. Daryl was calm, only the cough moving him at all. The baby’s movements were gentle waves below his hand.

You didn’t dare move, allowing him the comfort he likely didn’t even know he was seeking. If you were being honest, you were relaxing a little as well. With a sigh, both tired and contented, you slouched but stayed next to him.

“Is he okay?” You asked, finally rolling your head toward the others. Beth and Carol were getting Hershel to his feet, Lori pacing behind them with an expression you just didn’t like.

“I’m perfectly fine.” The man answered for himself, patting Beth’s hand so that she would release him.

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered, risking placing your hand over Daryl’s. When his fingers went still, you gently guided his palm back and forth over your belly.

“You did nothing wrong, Y/N. I should have been more—”

“He’s going to seriously hurt one of us.” Lori interjected, continuing her pacing. You shot her a warning look, eyes narrowing when she shook her head. “I understand this is out of his control, but this is Daryl and out of all of us, he’s hardwired for violence.”

“Lori, you should go.” You spoke quietly, not willing to disrupt any rest the archer might be getting. You could only pray that he hadn’t heard her careless comment.

“We should just take shifts to come check in on him. You could rest and eat, we’d probably hear him cou—”

“Are you seriously suggesting I leave him alone up here?” Where the anger was coming from, you had no idea. Maybe it was the exhaustion or the concern for Daryl that was constantly eating at you. It hardly mattered, you’d made it clear that she was crossing a line. Your tone was dripping with venom. “Carol.” You beckoned, eyes remaining on Rick’s wife. “Please, take Lori downstairs before I say or do something I would definitely regret.”

“Come on, Lori.” You heard Carol say quietly, a heated glare continuing between you and the other woman as she was led from the room. Once the door closed, your anger dissolved as quickly as it had materialized. “Beth—Hershel, you know—”

“We know he’d never hurt any of us on purpose.” The girl said in that sweet southern tone of hers. “You neither.”

“Having two expectant mothers in one room with enough charged energy was just asking for an explosion of some sort. Now don’t you stress yourself over it any further.” As he neared, Hershel squeezed your shoulder. “Think you might be able to keep him from becoming agitated long enough for me to take a listen?” He lifted the stethoscope.

You nodded with a sniffle, wiping away a tear. “Yeah. If you can go around, I have an idea.” The old man rounded the bed while you crawled up beside Daryl, gently pulling him onto his side and against your chest. Once situated, you pulled his hand back onto your belly, and though he didn’t move it, you felt him relax a little further into you. “Daryl.” You whispered into his hair. “Hershel’s gonna listen to your lungs. The stethoscope is gonna be cold but your skin is hot from the fever. I’m right here. And it’s just Hershel.”

You carded your fingers through his hair while Beth leaned over you to clean the cut on your cheek, hands just as gentle as her father’s. There wasn’t so much as a flinch when the cold instrument pressed against the archer’s back. You paid attention to the his reactions—or lack thereof—but you also watched Hershel and the way his expression fell. It was then you knew he would tell you nothing good.

“His right lung is full of fluid. It’s hindering his ability to breathe normally. The cough is still productive?” You nodded slowly. “May I see?” Well, that was disgusting but Beth carefully pinched one edge of a cloth and carried it to Hershel. You didn’t care to have that ick on your fingers.

Your attention turned back to Daryl, his weight heavy on your side, chest rattling, cheeks flushed, and lips pale. When would the group be back? Were they okay? Should you plan to leave?

“Y/N.”

“Hmm?” You didn’t look up from stroking the archer’s cheek until your name was said again. The expression you were met with was grim. You had your concerns about the pink frothy liquid that accompanied the mucus. Fuck. You should have told Hershel immediately. “What is it?”

“If I don’t do something about the fluid in his lung, it is possible he may—for lack of a better term—drown.”

“When they get back—” He cut you off with a shake of his head.

“This can’t wait that long. We don’t know if—we’re not sure when they’ll return. I need to see if I have anything that I can use. What we were able to grab from the farm was extremely limited and even that has been cut in half with being on the road.” Hershel was mentally running through inventory as he began to leave the room with his daughter in tow, turning but not meeting your eyes. “I’ll need him awake for this.”

Start waking him up now. That’s what he meant. You were horrified. You had no idea how to thoroughly explain to Daryl what was going to happen, because you didn’t know. Why did he need to be awake? ‘Oh, you’re going to drown slowly if we don’t do this now.’ How badly would it hurt?

“There’s a—time an’ place—to be pullin’ on—a man’s hair an’ this—ain’t it.”

You sputtered out apologies and let go immediately. “I didn’t even realize—I’m so sorry.” He wasn’t even looking at you, half lidded eyes blinking slowly and staring toward the wall. Your tight grip returned but this time on his bicep, pulling him more snugly into your side but easing when he buried his face against your sweater to cough. Gross, but what could you do? “Daryl. Do you think you could try to—”

“Heard the—the old man. M’awake.”

The two of you laid in silence, not necessarily uncomfortable but with the looming fear of what was to come and if could even possibly help him. Your fingers ran a trail up and down his arm while his hand splayed out over your belly, eventually sliding around to your side to shift you toward him. Face to face, you could now clearly see the exhaustion, the way the illness was slowly tearing him down, and the resignation in his eyes.

“I’m scared.” The words slipped from your tongue unbidden, and though his expression didn’t change, he brought a fiercely trembling hand to your cheek, hot against your skin.

“Me too.” The admission shocked you to your core. Daryl always strived to be strong for everyone. Hell, it was what led him to his current position in the first place, trudging on while ill just to make sure you and the group—mostly you—were fed. “Didn’t fall.” His thumb barely brushed the bruised cut on your cheek. “M’so sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

He opened his mouth, presumably to speak but quickly turned his face into the pillow to cough harshly, the force rocking his body hard enough to jar your own. You twisted to reach for a cloth, shushing him when his hold grew tighter, openly displaying his discontent at the thought of you moving away.

With gentle swipes, you wiped his face and then the pillow, folding the fabric before laying it above your heads for easy access.

“I don’t wanna do this without you. Thumper needs their daddy. And,” you swallowed, face crumbling and tears stinging your waterline, “I need their daddy too.”

“Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Why the hell was he comforting you when he was the one being ravaged by an illness that would have been easily remedied in the old world? You really were weak, dependent. Where was the headstrong woman that had shown no fear on her own during the first days of the turn? “Stop—stop lookin’ at me—like m’already dead.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, pulling away abruptly to cover a fit of barking coughs that left him groaning, face lined with pain while he gasped and heaved to catch his breath.

You had no chance to offer him any sort of comfort before there came a knock and Hershel entered, Carol at his heels. “We have what we need. Well, what can be used in place of what we need.” He held some sort of thin tubing, a syringe, and a plastic mixing bowl, while Carol carried a mostly empty bottle of whiskey, some gauze, tape, and a knife. Even with your wide eyes displaying a naked fear, Daryl never turned to look. “Is he awake?”

“Get it—get on with it.” He grumbled, weak but to the point.

Hershel merely shook his head with that fond smile he had developed toward your group since the farm. “Carol, could you sanitize the knife?” Seeing her pour a portion of the liquid over the blade made your stomach turn, or maybe it was your own illness rearing its ugly head to take advantage of your weakened state. Regardless, you looked away, finding Daryl’s eyes on your own. “First, I’ll need to find the right spot. You’ll have to be completely still for this, son.”

“Yeah, okay. Got—got it.” The archer wheezed. In your peripheral, you could see the veterinarian’s arm moving, pressing and counting the ribs in search of the correct site. Daryl was rigid, his eyes squinted but remaining open and focused on you with the occasional flitting down to where your swollen belly pressed against him. His hand fisted into the fabric of your sweater on your hip.

“Okay, I’m going to—”

“Just do—just do it for christ sake.”

The old man was still behind him for a moment, long enough to draw your gaze to his. He nodded, a silent request for you to do what you could to keep Daryl still and compliant. Drawing your eyes back to the dull blue that was watching you with such intensity that you felt crushed under the weight, well, that must have been enough for Hershel to continue.

Daryl made a noise in the back of his throat, the slightest spasm of pain indicating that the knife had pierced his skin. Hershel and Carol were moving behind Daryl, communicating through whispers and gestures while you felt Daryl’s arm begin to shake, your sweater pulling tight against your body.

“It’s okay. You’re doing so good, Daryl.”

His eyes suddenly clamped shut, your sweater rising away from your hip when he twisted his fist. The seconds felt like minutes that felt like hours of watching him tremble with fever, weakness, and restraint. Finally, there came the blessed sound of liquid hitting the bottom of the plastic bowl.

“Catheter is in place as best I can tell. We’re getting fluid. Don’t hold your breath, son. Nice and slow.”

You could tell he was trying, each breath a wheeze laced with pain. Slowly, you moved your hand from his arm to his face, just brushing your fingers over the stubble on his cheek. “We need to start thinking of names, you know. Thumper is cute but the baby isn’t a rabbit even though they feel like one sometimes.” Daryl’s eyes opened, tears pricking at the pinched corners. You knew he couldn’t answer you and so did he, probably couldn’t even if he tried. “I try to picture what they may look like. I hope they look like you, big blue eyes and maybe even a permanent scowl so that when they smile, it’ll be the most beautiful thing we’ve ever seen.” You thumbed away a tear that escaped down across the bridge of his nose toward the other eye.

When his throat spasmed, you thought maybe he was going to be sick but then he began to cough, loud and agonizing and dry. Your wide eyes found Hershel’s, the calm in the old man’s gaze fizzling out your terror.

“It’s okay. Just keep him still. The coughing forces out more fluid. It’s almost over.”

As painful as it was for Daryl, it was agonizing for you to watch him suffer with no way to help him. “It’s almost done. You’re doing great. Stay still and stay awake. Can you look at me?” He answered with the smallest of nods, an almost imperceptible movement. Carol moved closer to Hershel. It was torture to not know what they were doing out of your sight but at the same time, an immense relief. The zip of tape being pulled and torn was surely a sign of the procedure coming to an end.

But it was when Daryl drew in the deepest breath you had heard in two days that you felt yourself relax, truly and utterly just drain of tension, placing your forehead against his. “It’s over. Just rest now.” You focused on his even breaths, just the slightest wheeze, the barely audible rattle. He was limp against you, his hand still tangled in your sweater but no longer holding on. The archer was exhausted and sleep had claimed him almost instantly.

“Hershel?” You need not ask anything. He knew.

“It won’t last long, but it buys us some time. The incision was deep but small. I will examine him in a little while, make sure it stays clean. In the meantime, listen for any struggles with breathing. Let him rest.”

You nodded, your forehead brushing against Daryl’s. The used supplies had been gathered and the old man had already made his way downstairs. You caught Carol’s eye as she started to close the door.

“An hour.” You stated flatly.

“What?” The other woman stepped back into the room, her brow drawn.

“I’m giving them one hour. If they’re not back, I want the list and I’m going. There won’t be a discussion.” No room for argument. “You sit with him while I’m gone. You’re the only other person he really trusts.” She looked as if she might object, but when her shoulders relaxed, you knew you’d won. With a nod, she left the room.

Without Daryl’s desperate attempts to breathe, it was so quiet, a sound you welcomed and reveled in so deeply. Hershel had opened a doorway and you’d be damned if you’d let it close. Moving your arm below his to wrap around him, low on his back to avoid the incision, you used the leverage to pull yourself as close to him as you could with baby Dixon barring the way. The archer didn’t stir. Pressing your lips to his forehead, you felt the fever still burning hot, only fueling your determination to get what he needed if the group failed to return.

“I don’t care what you say or what you think. I don’t care why you think I shouldn’t.” You spoke softly, a near whisper. “I love you. And I am not losing you.”

Of course you had fallen asleep. Daryl was resting comfortably, albeit still feverish. You were cozy beside him. You felt safe while simultaneously feeling like you were guarding him. It had been more than an hour, that much was certain. Hershel hadn’t given a timeframe regarding how long the treatment would help Daryl and you were taking no chances. It was time to take things into your own hands.

As fate would have it, just as you began to disentangle yourself from Daryl, there were frantic footsteps on the stairs. Fuck. Daryl was too weak to move if walkers had wandered into the area. The door burst open without a knock, revealing a breathless blonde teenager wearing a brilliant smile.

“They’re back!”

You stared. It was all you could do, your voice had seemingly decided it was in just as much shock as you were. Besides, she had already disappeared, leaving the door wide open. A sob worked its way up your throat but you blocked it with your teeth, looking down at Daryl as he slept.

He would be okay.

The glare you had fixed on Hershel settled the maybe you should wait outside argument rather quickly. You weren’t leaving Daryl to be manhandled should he wake up confused.

A herd had blocked their direct path back. Of course one had. Because the world was cruel and unforgiving and the dead were always hungry and always looking for a life to take.

Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog were bringing up supplies while Maggie assisted her father with Daryl’s care. An IV was started immediately, after carefully searching for the perfect vein due to his state of dehydration. They didn’t have the cannulas to waste. Fluids were started right along with a bag of something called Azithromycin—an antibiotic, Hershel had said. They had scored several bags of each, along with a few other things that could be used for injuries or illnesses. But when they brought up the oxygen tanks, you could have sobbed.

The nasal cannula placement was what finally woke Daryl, bloodshot eyes scanning the room before you saw the first signs of panic. “Ssh. It’s okay.” You slid your hand under his and squeezed his fingers softly. “They’re back. Just let Hershal do his thing, okay? And then I’ll chase them all out. I promise.”

You were so relieved to see his usual scowl shift into place, even if it was somewhat diminished. “Fine.” He rasped.

“Good. Now, since I have your attention—don’t touch that—” you swatted his hand away from the cannula, “take these pills.” Hershel wanted around the clock alternation of acetaminophen and ibuprofen every four hours to get the fever under control.

With an utterance of something containing the word bossy he let you place the pills on his palm and tossed them into his mouth, swallowing them dry while you sat there offering a glass of water. There was a look shared between you that would have been amusing had either you had the energy to laugh. “Thanks.” He whispered, his hand shaking when he accepted the water. He only took a couple of sips but you wouldn’t hound him just yet. The fluids were going and he likely would take a while to feel like doing much of anything.

“We’ve done everything we can do for now. Just need to keep an eye on those bags and hang new ones when they’re empty. Keep giving the fever reducers and, son, try to drink when you feel like. The sooner you’re taking in fluids on your own, the better.”

“Leave that oxygen right where it is too.” Maggie added in a no-nonsense tone.

Daryl’s nod was sluggish, his chin almost staying on his chest during the gesture. The commotion, everyone moving, even while he did nothing more than take a couple of pills, had left him running on fumes. As promised, you were up, hand on your lower back to rub away the ache there as you used the other to shoo everyone out of the room.

Absolutely nothing was stopping you from crawling under those sheets with him and sleeping for four glorious hours. You had asked Carol to keep an eye on that. Thank heavens he was lying in the middle of the bed. The side with the IV needed to be avoided.

Actually lying down with the intention to sleep, knowing Daryl was receiving the help he needed, you were just done for, already drifting off and somewhere between awake and asleep when you felt Daryl’s knuckles brush against yours. You took his hand without a second thought.

“Are you sure about this?” Carol asked, standing with you in the doorway of the bedroom. She was nervously glancing back and forth between you and Daryl. Aside from a few bouts of those harsh, barking coughs, he had slept the entire four hours and barely woke enough to choke down the pills before being pulled right back under.

“I’m sure.” You secured your knife in the sheath on your thigh and wiggled Daryl’s gun holster a little to the side so it wasn’t gouging into the bottom of your belly. Your rifle was long gone and you weren’t about to alert anyone else to your plans by choosing a different weapon. So with both your bag and Daryl’s crossbow on your back, you were ready to head out.

“You don’t have anything to prove, Y/N. We’ve lived off less. There’s a little jerky left and we have some cans—”

“I’ll be fine, Carol. I’m only going to be a few hours and hunt small game. If I happen across a doe that I can lift, I’ll take that chance, otherwise, it’ll be squirrels, rabbits, raccoons, or opossums. Yum.”

“What do I tell him if he wakes up and asks for you?” She shifted nervously.

“The truth. We don’t lie. If he tries to come after me, knock him out or barricade the door.”

She followed you to the top of the stairs but not down, staying close to Daryl as she had promised. “You really don’t need to go.”

“I do. I’m the only other hunter in this group. I won’t have him trying to go out sooner than he’s ready to make sure there’s enough.” You paused on the bottom step, staring at the door and then toward the kitchen where everyone else was gathered. Chewing your bottom lip, you climbed up two more so she could hear you without alerting the rest. “If I’m not back before his next dose, I’m headed west. That’s where they can look.”

Carol looked so stricken and unsure so you offered her a smile, as she always did for you. Finally, she conceded. “Okay.”

“I’ll be back soon.”

#murda writes #blood ties #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon angst #daryl angst #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #pregnant!reader #sick!daryl dixon

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cevansbrat0007 · 2 months

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Hello, Duchess

Summary: Your first encounter with Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson, goes worse than you ever could've imagined. Takes place directly after the events in New in Town.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Implied Jealousy, Threats of Violence, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Ari’s P.O.V.

“Can’t believe this town actually has a real live bookstore.” Ari muses as he pulls up in front of the tiny, quaint-looking bookstore. “Fuckin’ wild.” Throwing his truck in park he takes a moment to survey the area, making note of the empty lot.

‘Must not do much business.’ He thinks before climbing out of his vehicle and confidently striding toward the door. Hopefully, the lack of an audience would make things flow a hell of a lot faster. Hell, if you were anything like some of the other women in this town, he’d probably just have to smile and flash his baby blues to convince you to spill your guts.

In fact, he was practically banking on it. Because this wasn’t Ari’s first rodeo – not by a long shot. He’d spent a lot of his life in and out of small towns like Bell’s Creek, which was part of the reason he couldn’t wait to bag his latest bounty and put this place, and its people, in his rearview mirror. Ari reaches for the handle on the door, only to frown when he gets a look at the sign hanging in the window that reads: “sorry, we’re closed”.

Well, that couldn’t be right.

He could’ve sworn that when he’d pressed Mrs. Turner, the First Lady of Calvary Baptist Church, about your whereabouts she’d said he’d be able to find you at your shop. Something about your preferring to work instead of resting and rejoicing on the Lord’s day.

While the bounty hunter supposed he could always try back tomorrow, he was keen to check you off his list. Refusing to admit defeat, he decides to try his luck anyway, only to be surprised when the door opens with a tinkling chime of a bail.

Confused but also now on high alert, Ari takes a tentative step inside as he looks for any sign of life. “Hello?” He calls out, finally allowing the door to swing shut behind him. Instinct has him reaching for his back pocket, checking to make sure he had brought along his firearm.

Just in case.

“Is anybody here?” He tries again, moving further into the shop. The place is clean and well lit, and boasts rack after rack of books. But what’s most impressive is that there doesn’t appear to be a speck of dust anywhere. “Look, I just came by to–”

“We’re closed!” A disembodied voice sounds from the back of the store.

“Yeah, I saw the sign, ma’am…” He clears his throat. “But I think you forgot to lock the door, so I –”

“That means get out!”

“So much for southern hospitality.” Ari grumbles under his breath as he continues on his mission to track down the owner of the voice. “Ma’am, I just wanna talk. And maybe–ahh shit!” He curses when his hip accidentally connects with a half-full rolling cart, sending several of the heavier books crashing to the ground. “Sorry!”

“Did you just break something?!” The voice suddenly screeches. “Don’t make me get my taser.”

“There’s no need for that.” Instead of picking them up, the bounty hunter hastily nudges them aside with his foot. “My name is Ari Levinson, and I’m just here to ask you a couple of questions.”

While this isn’t how the man had expected any of this to go, he’s relieved when he sees a familiar face peek at him from around the corner. A face that happened to be even more beautiful than he initially remembered. Even though it had only been a couple of hours since he’d seen you last.

Damn! It was as if the image of you in that dress taking up space at the other end of the pew was now permanently imprinted into his brain. He'd have to tread lightly here.

Otherwise things could get complicated. Fast.

Your P.O.V

“Pretty sure this is what law enforcement calls trespassing.” You sniff, craning your head around the corner to stare at the man who was taking up entirely too much space in the narrow hallway. Sure said man was easy on the eyes, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little concerned about his apparent inability to read.

“I can assure you that’s not what this is.” The lawman holds up his palms in an effort to placate you.

And although you try not to stare, it’s impossible to miss just how big they are – how rough they seemed – with just the right amount of callus. You can’t help but wonder what those hands would feel like on your bare flesh.

“Then what is it?” You ask, struggling to keep your tone short and clipped as you emerge from your hiding place. The last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were actually attracted to him.

If anything, you considered yourself to be curious. No harm there, right?

“As I said, my name is Ari Levinson. I’m a bounty hunter from just outside Rosewell, New Mexico who also occasionally moonlights as a private investigator.” He tells you, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I just stopped by to ask you a couple of questions. And while I didn’t necessarily mean to intrude, I figured you might appreciate me taking a more delicate approach on account of your relationship with my person of interest.”

Fucking Martin Westbrook. He’d been the bane of your existence ever since you’d first crossed paths back in high school.

“I know you’re looking for Martin.” Annoyed by the very nature of the conversation, you pick up a box, hefting it onto your hip so that you can carry it out to the sales floor. “But I’m not quite sure how much help I can be.”

You brush past him, inwardly smiling when he scrambles to get out of your way. It was a subtle reminder that this was your shop. And you absolutely refused to be intimidated by him or anyone else.

“I’m sure whatever you have to say will be plenty helpful.” He’s quick to reassure you as he turns to follow the path you set. “Provided you’re honest, that is.”

“Did you really just waltz into my shop and call me a liar, Mr. Levinson?”

“I meant no offense.” Ari coughs, scrubbing a weary hand over his bearded jaw. If you were the overly presumptuous type, you might think you’d just managed to fluster the poor man.

Now feeling extra prickly, you drop the box onto the far counter of your cashwrap before turning to face your unwelcome guest. “As you can see, I have a busy day’s work ahead of me. And I was really keen on doing it by myself.” You gesture at the array of other boxes and racks placed around the store. “So if we could get a move on, I would greatly appreciate it.”

“Gladly.” He gives a brief look around. “Is there some place maybe where you and I can sit and chat?”

“I’d say here is about as good a place as any.” You tell him as you step behind the counter. Bending down, you snag a bottle of cleaner, along with a couple of rags. If this man insisted on being here, then he would just have to deal with you taking care of your business. “I’m pretty confident in my ability to multitask.”

Nodding along, Ari pulls out a small notepad and pen from his back pocket. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Westbrook?”

You let out a sigh as you begin to spray down your countertops with your all-purpose cleaner. While you supposed you could’ve gone with something a little more industrial, you were partial to the way this particular brand’s products always smelled.

“I don’t know.” You shrug as you bask in the scent of rose and cedar. “Maybe three, four weeks ago.”

“Do you happen to recall the day and time?”

“No. Not really. If I had to ballpark it, I’d guess sometime around the 5th of last month.” You move to the next flat surface, spraying it down just like the last.

“You sure about that?” You try not to let it irk you when you see him take a seat on a nearby step stool out of the corner of your eye.

“As much as I can be.”

“And did Mr. Westbrook happen to give you any indication of where he might be headed?”

“Nope.”

He’d been nervous though. That much you did recall. By the time he’d come to you that night, your old friend had been well beyond spooked.

“Did he give you his reason for leaving?”

“We didn’t…” You trail off, taking a moment to scrub at a particularly stubborn sticky spot that’s marring the wood. “There wasn’t really much time for talking.” You’re so concerned with scrubbing that you miss the way the county hunter’s eyes narrow as he studies you. “He just stopped over to say goodbye.”

And to borrow all the cash you happened to have on hand – to the tune of $500. Enough for a bus ticket and a couple nights in a dirt cheap motel.

“Right.” Ari scoffs, admittedly with a bit more heat than he intends. “Not a lot of time for talking.” He pauses briefly to drag a hand through his shaggy brown locks. “Not sure why I didn’t wanna believe them.”

“Am I sensing a problem, Mr. Levinson?” You hum, tossing your rag to the side in favor of focusing on the rugs.

“I guess I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that he kept you in the dark about his plans.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “In my experience, most men like Martin tend to have loose lips around the women they’re fuckin’.”

In that moment, it’s almost as if you can feel the air go out of the room. Just who the fuck did this knuckle-dragging, mouth-breather think he was?

“Excuse me?” Those two little words are spoken through clenched teeth. You’re so taken aback by his brazen accusation that you can scarcely breathe, let alone think.

Ari simply quirks a tawny brow at you, seemingly unaware of the danger he’s just placed himself in. Did he not see how close your hand was to that damned stapler? While it was clear that folks in this town had been running their mouths, they’d apparently neglected to mention that you’d also been the star pitcher for your high school softball team.

“Apologies if I offended your delicate sensibilities, Duchess. But I’ve never been the type to beat around the bush. Besides…” The smug bastard tucks his pen behind his ear. “You have to know that people in this town like to talk.”

Fire simmers hot in your belly, as you come out from behind the register. It takes less than ten seconds for you to bridge the distance between yourself and the cocky lawman. While you might’ve been taught never to raise a hand against anyone, this man was sorely testing every last bit of your patience.

“I want to make one thing very, very clear.” You hiss once you’re finally standing toe-to-toe with the handsome interloper who, of course, makes no room to get up himself. “I have never – not even once – slept with Martin Westbrook. He’s a friend, you backwoods jackass. Something you clearly know nothing about.”

“I get the feeling I struck a nerve.”

And, judging by the newfound tick in his jaw, so had you. Except you had no way of knowing it was because he’d lost a buddy of his own a little while back.

“And I think it’s about time you got the hell out of my shop.” His piercing blue eyes fly to yours, letting you know that you’d managed to surprise him with your heated dismissal.

Good. Because this Ari Levinson fella had officially overstayed his welcome.

“Look, Duchess. I apolo –”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me out of my name, Mr. Levinson. And I’m not sure I appreciate it.” You spit as you take a step backwards with the intention of giving him enough space to stand. “Now, I’ve been nothing but amenable to your rather…invasive questions. But we’re done. So, I’m gonna have to insist that you leave.”

Before you decided he’d make a deserving candidate for death by a thousand paper cuts.

Your pulse continues to thrum in your ears as you watch him rise to his full height – an impressive 6’4 – so that he now towers over you. Perhaps if you weren’t so angry you’d be a little more tempted to allow your mind to wander a little farther into the realm of fantasy.

But not now.

Right now, in this moment, all you wanted was to watch Ari Levinson’s sculpted ass walk right out your front door.

Nodding, the now quiet bounty hunter begins moving in the direction of the entrance. Neither of you say a word as you make that quick walk. In fact, you don’t speak again until Ari’s hand is on the handle.

“For what it's worth…” He blows out a weary breath. “This wasn’t how I meant for this to go.” His eyes find yours, as if imploring you to see the truth in them.

However, instead of responding all you can do is offer up a shrug. Which he, of course, takes as an opportunity to keep going.

“It’s just…the idea of someone like you getting caught up with a piece of slime like Westbrook…” He pauses long enough to open the door and take a tentative step outside. “I guess it bothered me more than I realized.”

His reluctant admission has your stomach tied up in knots, which prompts you to ask the one question you were almost certain you’d regret later:

“And just what do you mean by that?” You do your best to seem unruffled as you awkwardly brace yourself against the doorframe.

“All I’m saying is that you’re out of his league.” Feeling even more confused, you watch as Ari’s lips curve in a faint smile. “And if you didn’t know that before, well, now you do.” His head dips politely as he turns to head towards his truck.

“Guess I’ll see you around, Duchess.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning. “Oh, and don’t forget to lock up. Might help with all those unwanted visitors you’ve been havin.”

Ari doesn't need to turn his head to know that you're currently giving him the finger. He can feel it. And all it does it make him smile harder.

END

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vibinwiththefrogs · 2 months

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Cane/Bamboo Adventures Part 1/?

So we just moved into a new house and there's this huge thing in the very back of the yard along a creek that I thought was bamboo, then I thought it was cane, and then after checking as many cane ID posts and videos I could find, I'm still completely unsure. My friend who's a wildlife student says it doesn't look like bamboo to her, but we both agree it doesn't look like the cane we've seen around South Georgia. She said it must be Arundinaria gigantea because no other cane gets this large, but all the cane we've seen identified as A. gigantea doesn't look like this. Here's my notes and some pics.

First, the leaves are much smaller than cane I've seen around here. Even very small, young cane around here has leaves about the length of my forearm.

Second, a couple things online I found distinguishing bamboo from cane say that new bamboo branches grow outward, while cane grows more upward. However there seems to be both upward and outward shoots on this bunch (examples of both pictured above). Also worth noting, the picture above on the left is the biggest diameter branch I found. I have relatively small hands for context (I wear small-medium sized gloves).

Then here's just some more pictures. I crawled down into a creek for the root picture (left)(a steep 7 foot drop haha). The middle picture is the youngest bunch I found, again it doesn't resemble cane I've seen around here. The picture on the right is a further away picture after I cleared some dead branches.

Also worth noting, this is tucked behind a house, between a fence, a creek, and like 3 trees. So it doesn't have a ton of space to grow, and I'm guessing that's why it's so dense.

If anyone happens to know anything about this please let me know! A week or so ago I emailed a guy from NC State and uploaded it on inaturalist, but I haven't received any replies or ID 😭

#I'm working on clearing out all the dead branches currently to give it more space #native plants #bamboo #cane #river cane #plant identification #plant ID #arundinaria gigantea #?#solarpunk

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thepeonysbackup · 4 months

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Cheek to Cheek

Summary: After a rough day, Alastor decides to take your happiness into his own hands, or moves to be precise!

Warnings: Fluff!! WIP!!!

Request: Yes/No

Songfic!!!: ♬♬♬

At this point, you were boring a line into the floor from how much your heels clicked against the tile flooring, only going quiet every few seconds you walked over your fuzzy white and purple rug. "She had the audacity to point that smug ass angelic weapon into my face while she was at it. Claiming I want to make trouble when all I've done for the hotel is support her girlfriend with everything I have?! Doesn't she realize that if I wasn't trying I would be out hopping rooftops, shoplifting, and running these streets lawless like how I was seven months ago?!" The soft hum from Alastor spurred you on to continue as you turned around again, this time stopping because you felt done, chest rising and falling while you stood relaxed. "Sounds to me like you were rather dreadful." That caught you off guard, "What..?"

The sudden flick of the radio dial, the click so loud it made you jump as the music started to play. Alastor's shadow smiled mischievously from the ceiling for its choice, as he stood he walked over to you with his eyes closed and smile ever present before he took hold of one of your hands and pulled you near.

'Heaven.. I'm in heaven... And my heart beats so– that I can hardly speak..

And I've seem to find the happiness I seek.. When we're out together, dancin' cheek to cheek.'

To your surprise, the steps were slow, merely the both of you slowly turning to the music and swaying with one another to the beat. His hand gently held yours, eyes now opened to stare intently down at you as he spoke, "My Dear, if I had ever met you while you were behaving in such a manner I promise you we would not have gotten off on the proper foot." His smile turned soft as he spun you and pulled you back into him, your back to his chest while he held your waist merely for a moment but long enough for his touch to be burned into your mind.

'I'm in Heaven, and the cares I had through the week, seems to vanish like a gamblers lucky streak.. When we're out together dancing cheek to cheek.

Oh I'd love to climb to mountains, reach the highest peak. But it doesnt thrill me half as much as dancin' cheek to cheek.

Oh I'd love to go out fishing, in a river or a creek, but I enjoy it half as much as dancin cheek to cheek.'

"Now Darlin' dance with me~ I want my arms around you, these chaaarms about you will carry me throoough, is heaven!~" He sang out, making you laugh a tad as he truly put in effort as he spun you out again, posing dramatically on one knee while pointing towards you. He wanted you to continue the second part, which since it was only the two of you, you obliged to. "Take it away doll, sing it!"

"Heavenn, I'm in heaven!~ And my heart beats so, that I can hardly speak~~

And I seem to find the happiness I seek, when we're out together dancing Cheek to cheek!!~"

He laughed along with you when you finished, gently pinching your cheek while leaning back down to your level as he did. "See that's the one right there," He mused with enthusiasm, quickly capturing your lips for a mere moment before pulling back with a wide grin on his face at you own genuine smile of disbelief, "That little one right there most definitely is my favorite, please wear it more often dear. A dance will always bring out a smile, never hesitate to seek me out if ever you are in need of one again, my darlin'. Til we meet again." And with that he was gone in the flash of his shadow, slithering away under your doorway.

What just happened?

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor #wips #wip

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chosaya · 8 months

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MURDEROUS MASQUERADE !

synopsis : your invited to a halloween party but thing start getting unpleasant when your friends starts disappearing one by one?

warnings : overstim, semi public sex, angst(👹).

wc:4.0k

This year you were invited to a Halloween party with your friends.

—however this year was a little different. The thing about this year is that instead of going to your friend's house as they usually do, you are going to an old mansion where the party is hosted.

A frighteningly large mansion stood before you was decorated with skulls around the front yard, which weaved between cobwebs and gold branches, and the car came to a complete stop as it approached the house and halted near the house, and music emanated from outside the home.

The sigh of relief escapes your lips as you step out of the car, watching it take off without looking back and letting the cool air of the hills pass through your body as you make your way through the large black gates, leading to the manor.

Your hands straightened your fairy costume as best you could, the bottoms of the dress were ruffled with matching green color that hugged your thighs in the right places—beautiful light green wigs that were attached to the back of your costume were just the right touch to complete the look.

Upon reaching the main entrance of the party, you exited the vehicle and walked up to the main entrance, passing through a large door decorated with a skull around the edges, where you nervously reached for the handle and knocked on it twice. The large door to the manor with a creek was opened by your friends in their ghost costumes, and they opened the door to the manor letting you inside.

When you stepped inside the large mansion decorated with jack-o-lanterns all around the living room and people dancing on the floor in the living room having a good time as your friends brought you in, the scent of cigarettes permeated your nostrils, followed by the smell of cheap alcohol.

When your friends brought you inside, you noticed a statue sat atop a glass display case in the middle of the room, with sharp black tallets to the ten-foot-long forked tail, black wings that were attached to his back, not to mention the infamous big horns that adorned his head.

In the center of the room stood a statue of a demon with green eyes that bore deep into the soul as if it were alive.

The moment you stepped deeper into the room, you heard the creak of the floor beneath your feet as you stepped; the chill of the air crept into the mansion as you stepped deeper into it; the gargoyle above the fireplace caught your attention, but as you continued in the room, you quickly put it aside, ignoring it as you into the living room.

As soon as your friends left to get more drinks, the demon statue in the display case smirked down at you for a minute, then turned back into stillness, as if nothing had happened, as if nothing had happened at all.

I’m starting to see things. Maybe it’s just my imagination?

Trying to comprehend what was happening, you blink several times, rubbing your eyes, and eying yourself trying to secure a grasp on what was going on, while your eyebrows knitted together in an attempt to make sense of what was happening.

“Guys that statue moved and smirked at me.” you stammer out, there was a slight hesitation as you looked over at the demon statue, wondering if it would move again, but it didn't seem to be moving, it stayed still the entire time in front of your friends who gave you puzzled looks throughout the whole situation.

“The place is pretty old, maybe it’s the manor setting in after being here for years.” your friend shrugged it off aside before pulling you along to the living room

—As you walked from one side of the room to the other, a variety of games were displayed to you trying to ignore the nervousness you felt inside.

Despite the fact that you may start thinking that you are going insane due to the demon statue, you quickly returned to the party with your friends and had a few sips of vodka in an effort to calm your nerves slightly.

At the party, there was nothing but silence for the rest of the night. As you were playing cup pong with your friends, suddenly, you heard a loud crash, as if a glass bottle had shattered on the ground, leaving some people in a state of panic and freaking out, as if they had been struck by a flying object.

Once you spotted the damage, you ran over and, as you inspected the damage, your breathing stopped as you saw the glass display case was shattered and the demon was gone.

Why the hell were your friends disappearing?

One by one.

The sound of one of your friends screams suddenly fills your ears, leaving your entire body, frozen and before you know it, the lights have suddenly dimmed and they have suddenly disappeared, and now everyone is becoming worried about their disappearance before the room has again been filled with lights, and we are all beginning to worry about them.

This situation is spiraling out of control, so you needed to get out.

Now.

Your friends and you run over to the front door of the manor in order to try to unlock it, but it is locked so tightly that it is impossible for you to do so, like it has been locked intentionally by someone or something.

Upon realizing that you were all alone in the manor, you felt a sense of dread creep up in your stomach.

You tried to find your way through the unfamiliar hallways of the manor calling out your friends' names but they didn't respond

—all you heard was a whoosh from behind you as you sped down the hallway, trying to find a safe place to hide, but your panic makes you run faster, as if you were running for your life.

Your eyes fall upon an old room in the manor in which you hope to be able to hide in, so you quickly open the door to the room as quickly as possible. Nevertheless, before you are able to escape, you lock the door behind your back. You were lying on the ground, trying to catch your breath, when your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to catch your breath.

When you saw the flickering lights, you hoped that there was still power on and that you could escape, but as soon as the lights flicked off, the darkness returned and the hope was quickly dashed.

It wasn't long before you heard scratches being made on the floorboards of the room. It sounded almost like a cat scratching against the wooden surface, and immediately after you heard the scratching sound, you heard a deep, dark chuckle from the shadows of the room, which caused your heart to race even faster, leaving you speechless.

There was no doubt in your mind that there was either an animal or a ghoul after you, or that someone was taking your friends one by one. Only thing could be hoped for - that they would be okay.

It couldn't get any worse right? right?

You were wrong..

The tall muscular demon stood in front of you about ten feet tall and towered over you with his sharp canine teeth, his ten-foot forked tail, and the black wings hooked to the back of its body. Not to mention its renowned large horns from the same display case he escaped from. The only thing you could do was stare at him for a moment before you could utter a word before he spoke out in front of you.

“Staring is rude, you know sweetheart.” Toji remarked, as he lifted your head up with his claw-like fingers, allowing you to meet his gaze, allowing you to smirk for a moment while his breath tickled your neck, causing your hair on the back of your neck to stand up straight.

His words were so frightening that you could practically feel the fear taking over your body at the very same moment you felt your heart lurch to your stomach, as you became uneasy at what he was saying to you.

It took you a second to believe your eyes when you saw the demon from earlier in the display case. This was the same demon that haunted you and your friends all night long without you ever being aware that he had been doing it.

“w—who are you..” y/n stammers out while swallowing harshly, you felt your throat go dry at the sensation of the demon loosening his grip on your chin and then walked back into the room, taking a seat on the worn down chair on the other side of the room where a warm moonlight was shining through the windows.

With his large muscular body, his scar on the left side of his body, his huge black horns, and the long black wings that adorn the back of his body, and those green eyes looking down over your shoulders, looking over at you from over your shoulder, the sight of this monster impresses with its intimidating presence.

“w-who- who are you… ” toji said mocking your frantic tone,While he was sitting in the old wooden chair, you were shocked at how well he had been able to support your weight despite his large size and the fact that he appeared to be heavier and larger than normal for a man of his size.

“Name’s Fushiguro Toji..and you?” he replied, he replied, answering your question, as he leaned back in the old chair that makes a creaking sound every time he leaned back and forth in it. As he rocked back and forth in it, he hummed to himself swaying his tail side to side.

“Y/n.” you replied to him, you watched him walk over to the other side of the room where there was what appeared to be an old record room, it looked as if it had never been touched for many years.

A lot of dust was covering the old furniture and records in this room, as he walked around the other side of the room, to the other side, which appeared to be a record room in an old country manor, with old records and antique records decorating the walls.

All over the vintage records and antique records adorning the walls, there was a lot of dust accumulating on them.

The last owner of this house probably never knew that it was haunted by a demon all these years as there was dust on everything.

In the midst of a brief moment of silence, you turned to admire Toji's features for a moment. A messy black hairstyle swayed around his head, a sharp scar just at the edge of his lip beside the right side of the left side of his mouth, his legs crossed over one another, and green eyes stared for the second time at you in your form.

“I have a proposal for you, sweetheart. C’mere.”. It was impossible for you not to feel a little nervous as you took a few steps closer to him

The blood was pumping through your veins, and you felt a knot in your stomach as you tried to maintain your composure, and as you stopped in front of him, it was as though you felt a tightness in your throat, and as you slowly raised your head to meet his gaze, you could feel a level of shock creep over you.

The sudden closeness you felt and the warmth that emanated from his body took you by surprise, especially since he was a demon and you were unprepared for it.

His long tail had appeared to pull you towards him as he lowered his face to speak with you, and you felt that sharp end pulling you towards his body until you were flush against him when he lowered his face for you to hear him. For someone like him, the warm feeling was strangely comforting and comforting. As he continued doing so, you felt your body beginning to warm against him as he allowed you to feel yourself becoming warmer against him.

Fuck… even for a a demon this guy is handsome as fuck.

“What is it?” Your heart was pounding, your palms were sweaty, and without a doubt your heart was pounding as you took a deep breath and tried to appear relaxed– you didn’t know if he could sense your fear or what he’s capable of..

It did not take you long to calm down, to relax, and to subconsciously press your body against his chest, even though he was scanning your entire body up and down, and his hands kept reaching down toward your waist while maintaining a firm grip on you.

Despite the fact that the talons were digging into your hips, even though his eyes were scanning your entire body up and down, it was not enough to hurt you, but you could feel his talons digging in the soft flesh of your hips.

“So here’s the deal.”he murmured against the shell of your ear, as he continued on with his words “I can’t leave this manor until well you know how those stupid tales go.” Toji rolled his eyes at his self-created comment, he realized that he is more attracted to you than ever before.

“I’ll do it, you do realize you're going to have free my friends afterwards too.”

“Of course, sweetheart, you have my word. I’ll be slow with you, don't worry.heh.

Toji placed hot wet kisses against your neck sending shivers down the spine of your body as he played with your breast underneath your shirt while his hands roamed under it,

—rolling and pinching your sensitive nipple while using his free hand to squeeze the other breast between his fingers while gently latching his lips on your sensitive nipple-wanting to give you more attention you needed.

“——Fuck…” Your lips prick up with a gasp as you’ve felt Toji’s smirk as he grinds his hips against you slowly, feeling the dick rub against your clothed pussy as he grinds his hips and grinds his hips building up more friction between the two of you.

“I barely even touched you and you're already screaming my name sweetheart?” His lips curved into a dark chuckle when he removed his mouth from your nipples.

—-A wet pop was heard as he admired his work, as he grinded his hips against yours, you felt a damp spot forming on the outside of your skirt as he admired his work, a grin spreading across his face as he realized how much you were turned on by him.

“—toji..need you.” you breathing heavily against him as you ghost of over the lips before kissing him deeply, toji hands hooked your underwear yanking them down to your ankles in one go

—-tracing his the pad of his thumb against your pretty pussy in circular motion, making you gasps and arch your back against you as he began to curl his fingers inside of your pussy and make you gasp once again, placing your head against his shoulder, digging your nails into his back, pulling on his wings as harshly a soft grunt escaping toji’s lips at the pressure-secretly enjoying it.

“I know I can smell you, so wet for me.” He cooed removing his fingers from inside you leaving you yearning to feel his touch more, toji unbuckles his belt, your eyes widening at his size he was huge,

—he chuckled at your reaction because lifting your hips slowly brushed the tip of his dick against your folds, slowly slipping inside of you with tip only rocking his hips back and forth against you.

throwing your head back panting, feeling like pure putty is his claws, he sinks down you down onto his length fully, a breathless moan escaped

—your lips as he slowly thrusts his dick upwards into you, forcing you to arch your back against his chest as he thrusts his dick upwards into you.

“—fuck…toji..feels..so—good.” a small gasp leaving your lips as toji grips your hips steady thrusting into your pussy increasing the pace feeling his balls slap against your ass as squeeze around him.

“—that’s it baby..fuck this pussy’s to die for.” He grunts keeping his steady pace, squeezing the fat of your ass cheeks rocking against you once more, His breath comes out in ragged gasps now, each one mixing with heavy moans of pleasure that escape from the both of you—panting heavily as your squeeze his length one last time—-covering it white sticky cum as he slips his dick out of you letting it ooze all over him.

“Shit—I can’t believe I fucked a demon-.” you say panting heavily exuhated against him as he lifts you up by the thighs cleaning you both off as you both rested against the old bed.

A demon hunter had been looking for the pair's normal activities for years and finally found a demon here when he entered the room with a crossbow in his hand, shouting at Toji as he aimed it at him.

You tried to stop him from shooting the bow at him, saying that it was not a threat and you aren't in danger

it was too late…

When he shot a bullet into Toji's stomach, he instantly dropped to the floor with a thud

—as he was bleeding out, and as he fell to the ground, you watched tears stream down your cheeks as his body fell to the ground.

he did say the pussy was to die to for literally..

He was gone…for good.

@omgeto @zarihaaa @dprkento @satocidal @hoshigray @satoruhour @honeybleed @kingkonoha @ryukenzz @luvfaries @ramonathinks @cvberidiot @charbunxxi @chrollohearttags @deathkidz @blkwriters @shinsouscatpisssmell @vampress7 @ghoulishfrk @kazushawty

#jujutsu kaisen smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji x you #toji x y/n #fushiguro toji x reader #jjk smut #toji fushigro x reader #toji x reader #fushiguro toji smut #jjk x you #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk x y/n #jjk toji smut #jjk smut fics #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #toji smut

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murdrdocs · 7 months

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i just wanna think about how step brothers rafe would blackmail you because he caught you sneaking back into the house after a party you were told not to go to.

what could you possibly do for rafe so that he doesn't go and tell ward and your mom

your foot lands on a creek in the floorboards and instantly, as if on cue, your body freezes. you wince under your breath, squeeze your eyes shut, but the damage is already done.

in fact, you figure that the damage was done once you'd snuck out of your bedroom window hours ago, when the sun had just started to set and day bled into night.

"where've you been?"

the voice comes from your left, probably in the living room, and it's one that causes frustration. you sigh, roll your eyes, and weigh if it's worth arguing. unfortunately, that choice is made for you.

"you went to that party, didn't you? wearing that." rafe spits his last words out, as if your outfit of shorts and a cropped tee were something completely inappropriate whenever his sister –– your sister –– wears the same without any comments.

you turn towards him, voice already laced with venom before you even speak. "it's none of your business, rafe." you add the same emphasis to the end of your words just as he did.

"oh but it is my business. dad specifically told you not to go."

"your dad, rafe. ward's not my dad." you can see him getting even more upset. getting irritated, which is an emotion that doesn't wear well on rafe. it fits too tightly too quickly.

he stands from his seat in the armchair, approaching you almost menacingly. but you refuse to submit. you push your shoulders back, puffing your chest out and hardening your eyes to stare up at him.

"you're living under his roof," his pointer finger, long and dexterous, circles around in the air. "you're spending his money." he stares down at you over his nose, gaze virulent. his top lip curls. "treat him––treat us––with some respect."

your eyebrows lift in an amusement and shock mix. "us? i think i respect sarah and wheezie just fine."

"me."

"and why would i respect you? i don't owe you anything, rafe, especially with how you treat me." you go to turn away, done with this whispered conversation, but rafe catches your elbow before you can escape.

"you don't owe me anything, huh? i wonder what would happen if dad found out that you were sneaking out?"

you shrug, pretending to be uncaring. "i'm an adult. and again: he's not my dad."

"okay." rafe lets go of your arm. "then you can say goodbye to that monthly allowance. no more credit card. no more shopping trips. this was the third time you disobeyed him, right? and what did dad say..." rafe puts a finger on his chin and pretends to think. "something about three strikes and you're on your own."

your facade cracks, your eyes fall. because rafe's right, as annoying as he is. you stare up at him, defeated.

he sees that he's won, pink lips curling into a victorious smile. his hand comes to your hip, hooking in the belt loop of your shorts and pulling you closer with the curl of a finger. your chest thuds into his but rafe doesn't falter. he instead stares down at you, his other hand pressing into the exposed skin between your top and bottoms.

when he speaks, he leans down, whispering into your ear and speaking each word clearly. "unless you're willing to make up for it. to show me some respect."

#stepbro!rafe #rafe cameron x reader #rafesworld!#rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #celeste writes obx #rafe cameron

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crypt-keepers-den · 9 months

Text

[Astarion x Reader]

Warnings: None really, there are implications parenthood (the reader is adressed as mama/mummy), i just want to write fluff for the vampy boi <3

The soft glow of sunlight finds its way through your curtains, you turn your back to it before it can rouse you from your soft slumber. Your nose comes in contact with astarion's spine, pressing your face into his back which rouses a soft chuckle from deep with his chest, the vibrations cause you to slightly open your eyes. "Goodmorning my love" he turns to face you his pale skin glowing in the morning light, a smile present on his face, oh how you love his smile, everything about it from the crows feet that appear next to his eyes when he smiles genuinely, the way his fangs peek out from under his lips. He was perfect.

"whats on that mind of yours lover?" he casts you a teasing glance causing a geniune smile to grace your lips, your hands reach out to find one another, your fingers finding comfort in the grooves of his hand, feeling the gold band that sits proudly on his ring finger, the matching one adorning your finger, your voice is soft and groggy from sleep "this is first time in a while ive had you to mysel-" as if on cue the sounds of little feet on the hardwood floors brings your attention to the door, you sigh; however your still smiling "it would appear darling our little spawns have a different idea" . Your stifle a laugh your head resting on his chest as you both wait for your bedroom to turn into a chamber of madness. Astarion presses a kiss to your temple, his fingers combing through your hair.

your bedroom door creeks open, two little figures finding their way to the foot of your bed before climbing up and jumping onto their father "Morning mama and papa" Lyra, your 3yr old daughter sits ontop of her father, she almost his double, sharing his pale skin and silver curls, her eyes however are the same as yours. You feel small hands patting at your side, you look over and your 2yr old son Caspian is making grabby hands, he wants up to join in with everyone else; you lift him up allowing him to get comfortable on your chest, the small boy shares his father's facial features, along with his red eyes, however he shares your skin color and hair color.

"my my, little spawns you are up early today whatever is the reason?" astarion gently pokes and tickles his daughter, her squeals of laughter filling the room, caspian slaps his chubby little hands together in excitement. "papa you promised we'd go to the market today!". She was right, today was the first of the autum market and Astarion and you had promised your little ones (well only Lyra could understand really) that youd take them to see it and pick out a few things for home. Asatrion lets out a dramatic sigh, throwing his head back onto the pillow "I suppose i did didnt i" lyra laughs at him.

you seize the moment to tease him " Tell him to hurry up Lyra, hes a dramatic old elf" you pull a funny face causing your daughter to start giggling frantically, Astarion's head snaps around to look at you before attacking you and lyra with kisses "How dare" another kiss "you two" this time it was on your nose "call me a dramatic old elf" the final kiss was on your lips.

He scoops Lyra and Caspian up into his arms, lyra giggles at their father's antics, while caspian chews on his chubby little fist babbling back at his dad "alright my little darlings, lets go get ready" he approaches you with both children in his arms, he plants a kiss on your lips before disappearing out the bedroom door to ready your children for the day, you take a moment to listen to the now alive little cottage,

"papa can we buy pumpkins today!" " I dont see why not- caspian take that out of your mouth young man" "ew papa why are you covered in caspians porridge" You laugh listening to the mayhem, what a beautiful family you have, it might not be perfect but its the vampire spawn and now retired tav kind of perfect.

this was going to be another perfect day.

writers note: i just love this vampy man and i wanna give him everything bc he deserves it <3 i will be taking requests for more baulders gate stuff so please spam my inbox

#baulders gate 3 #astarion x reader #baldurs gate #astarion #shadowheart #karlach #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion x mc

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norrisleclercf1 · 10 months

Text

An Angel and A Devil

Pairing: Mafia Mick Schumacher x Reader

Rating: PG-13

Words: 2.7K

Warnings: Kidnapping, drugging, angst, there is no fluff in this, Micheal is in this, handcuffs, mentions of dying, etc.

Mafia!Mick Schumacher Headcannons

Synopsis: He lied, the man you thought was your Prince Charming had lied. And you're not paying the price for those lies

The sound of rain tapping a window, a bone-chilling freeze wakes you from a peaceful sleep. A dreamless rest, no matter how hard you try to dream of the future. The fog in your head clawed its way into the rest of your body. How exhausted do you feel right now.

The weight of your eyelids as you try to open them has you whimpering. You want to rub your eyes, but something has one of your arms pinned down. The scent of fresh rain, old paper, a hint of citrus, and fresh bread as you sink deeper into the plush bed.

It was so comfortable. You don't remember when your or Mick's bed was this soft. The pounding headache that was rattling your skull has you queasy. You must've partied way too hard last night, the alcohol hitting harder than expected. Mick was there, picking you up on his bike that you knew well. The citrus and old paper was his smell. It reminded you of the library and the fruits he likes to eat.

Trying again to open your eyes, the weight of them was better. Yet, the little light in the room has your stomach lurching, slamming them shut. The more alert you become, the more aware you become of the sandpaper that is your tongue. "Mick?" Throat rasping, you call for your boyfriend, knowing this is his college dorm room.

No sound. Not a creak, breath, just the echo of rain and your heartbeat. "Mick?" You call out louder, forcing your eyes open. The first thing you see isn't the typical view of the student quad and Swiss mountains but rolling hills with yellow and red trees swallowed by the grey fog and rain. "Where, what?" Sitting up, you wince at the soreness in your wrist.

"What the hell?" A thick black handcuff rubs into your wrist's pulsing, swollen flesh, clearly there a while. Panic grips your chest, trying to figure out what happened last night. Going over the night, you list everything you can recall.

Friends

Bar

Partying

Drinking

Mick's bike

Mick

You gasp, the events of the night flashing in your mind. He couldn't have? Mick, your sweet and innocent book-loving boyfriend drugged you. No, he wouldn't have done that. It's all a bad dream. He wasn't involved in his father's business. He didn't stomp a man's skull in with his own foot.

He didn't do any of this!

Hands hold your head as you try to stomp the pounding in your head as you choke out a sob, the pain becoming too much. A creek in the room has your eyes wild and wide, seeing the bedroom door open. Thinking quickly, you lay back down in bed, closing your eyes. Steading your breathing, the smell of old paper and citrus grows stronger.

"Engel?" His soft voice has your stomach rolling as you try to control the gagging you want to do. The heavy steps let you know that he's next to the bed. "I'm so sorry, Engel." Mick clears his throat, placing a plate on his nightstand. Unable to help himself, he runs his fingers over your cheek.

Laying like stone, you control the urge to flinch, hating the feeling of his touch on you. "Couldn't lose you." Taking a deep breath, the bed dips from his weight, hands running from your cheek to your back and up. "I wanted to tell you the truth for so long, and I'm still your prince charming, just with a touch of darkness inside me. You're my Engel. I'm not letting you leave me." His fingers graze your wrist, causing you to flinch, unable to control the pain that radiates up your arm.

He makes a pained noise that makes you want to slap him. How dare he act like he's in pain when he's the one who did this to you. "I had to, Engel. I didn't want to, but I was worried you'd try to escape when you woke. Can't have that happening." Soft lips ghost your cheek, and with a sigh, he stands up. "I'll be back. Hopefully, you'll be awake next time I visit." He laughs. The image of him shaking his head and running those fingers through his pure blonde hair makes your heart ache. "You'll probably hate me when you wake up. A small part of me hopes you can still love me." The bedroom door opens and closes with a loud click.

"I hate you, and I do truly hate you." Burying your face in the pillow, you have to control the tears. Unsure if they're from being in pain, betrayed, lied, angry, or just plain old heartbreak.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Waking up, you feel clearer, like the fog in your brain has finally lifted. Going to sit up, you get stopped by something holding you down. Turning your head, you freeze, seeing a crown of blonde. The anger blindsides you, your free hand slamming down on his cheek; he shoots up fast. "THE FUCK!" He roars, eyes wild as he tries to get his barrings. "You motherfucker!" You slap him again, and his brain starts hearing your voice as you land blow after blow. "I hate YOU!" Moving fast, he straddles your chest, pinning your hands down.

Both of you breathe fast, staring at one another—a pair of blue eyes filled with sadness and love, the other with anger and hatred. "Engel." Voice soft as you throw your knee up, hitting him right in the balls. Groaning, he rolls off, falling on the floor. You laugh seeing him curl into a ball. "Liar! Kidnapper! Criminal! Ugh, hate you." You yell every word that you can think of.

"Engel, please." He groans, trying to suck in air. You stand, only to freeze when you don't feel the metal around your wrist. This is your chance. "Don't!" Mick reaches for you, but you dodge his hand, bolting for the door. Yanking it open, you stop, unable to control the love that contains you. "Fuck this." You rush down the hallway, heading down the stairs as people stare, shocked.

"Stop her!" Mick stumbles out the door; the guards lining the hallway stare at one another before they rush at you. Weaving through the house, you notice a closed door. Shoving your body against the door, you fall, only to crawl and close the door. Pounding feet pass the door, you suck in the air, trying not to make a sound.

"If you want to run, I suggest shoes and some pants." Like in the movies, you turn your head slowly, almost painfully. Feet dressed in black socks and stupid jeans as you follow up. Chuckling softly, you give a nervous smile. "Hello, Mr. Schumacher." He smiles at you, head dropping as you know you're defeated. "Hello, Miss. L/N. Running are we?" He reaches out his hand, accepting it, he pulls you up.

"Yes." No point in lying. He was there when Mick drugged and kidnapped you. He most likely will side with his son, having always been a strong family man. Micheal Schumacher dotted on his son. Even when he visited Mick at school, he was still his little boy to him. "Good for you, don't make it easy on my son. If the commotion outside means anything, you kicked his ass." Micheal smirks, walking to a large rosewood desk.

"Actually, sir, kicked his balls." Micheal laugh fills the room. In a way, it relaxes you. "Huh, I knew you were a good one." Falling back into the desk chair, he leans back, folding his hands behind his head. "I apologize for my son; he seems very in love with you. His mother has been yelling at him for days because of this. And my wife is punishing me too." He grumbles the last part looking like a toddler told off.

"Wait, days?" Stumbling over to a chair and collapsing into it. Your body tenses feeling the cold leather on your legs, somewhat aware now you're wearing just Mick's shirt. "Yes, if my counting is correct, about 9 or 10 now. You woke up the first 3 days here, our dumbass son gave you a higher dosage, and you were out like a light." Micheal smiles, not seeming at all concerned over your paling face. "If you're going to puke, don't do it on the carpet. My wife will skin me alive." You suck in a breath, nodding as you try to control the nausea.

"I want to go home." You whisper. The chair Micheal sits in creaks as he sits up, face like stone now. "I'm sorry, but you can't." A sickening doom starts to creep from your feet to your head. "If it were my choice, you'd be dead somewhere, and Mick would mourn you, thinking you died in an accident. But, alas, you saw something you shouldn't, and now the enemy believes you are involved. My lovesick fool of a child has pleaded with me and his mother that you stay here until the threat is dealt with. So, you're stuck here." Micheal boops your nose, silence is all he gets in response.

"Kill me." Micheal's eyebrows shoot up, shocked at those words, but then he chuckles. "Nope, I like you. You're staying alive. Now, go away." Waving you off, you leave the room, static roaring in your ears. "Engel!" Mick's voice echoes, and those soft hands you loved touching you now feel like fire scorching you. "Don't touch me." It sounded like you were screaming, but it was a whisper. "Y/n, I'm so sorry." Shoving him off, you glare at him.

"Stop saying 'you're sorry.' You're not sorry. Those words mean nothing to me anymore. They're empty promises, just like the future you and I planned." Mick's entire body deflates as he follows you like a shadow, making your way to his room. "I meet your father." Sitting on the bed, Mick moves to his small desk, leaning on it. "I know, that's his office." Crossing his arms, you notice he isn't wearing a shit.

You're cursing yourself for admiring your boyfr-ex boyfriend's chest. "Told me, 9 or 10 days. Mick, how could....who even are you?" Unable to look you in the eyes, he watches his feet feigning interest in them. "I told you who I am." Scuffing you stand. "No, no, you didn't. Mick, you told me that you were barely involved. Yet, I watch someone who is the sweetest soul on earth flatten a man's head without a second thought." Biting his lip, he looks up at you.

"You weren't supposed to see any of that. Never supposed to be spotted or for my enemies to know about you." Rolling your eyes, you want to kick him in the ball again. "Well, guess what, Mick? I saw your bike and thought you were there to pick me up. Instead, I GET FUCKING KIDNAPPED!" Grabbing a pillow, you throw it, and Mick easily dodges it. "Calm down. You're not hurt." He hisses, which have you shrink in on yourself. "I am hurt, Mick." He sits up straight, ready to look over your body to see where you are injured.

"Where? Tell me right now if one of those guards fucking hurt you." He seethes, grabbing your shoulders. "They didn't hurt me. You did." His grip slips away, arms falling to his sides. "You hurt me. By lying to me, telling me you weren't involved. Hurt me by kidnapping me, hurt me by giving me those empty promises of a quiet life. Filled with love, happiness, and fucking children." You spit out the last part.

"How could you do that to me? I thought-" Taking a deep breath, trying not to just weep in his arms. "We wanted to get married, Mick, move to the countryside, and be with each other. We talked about starting a family, either with animals or having children. And in a single night, you took that future away from me." Voice soft, Mick looks up at the ceiling, blinking fast. "I still want that with you." He admits, but you laugh. "Well, I don't." You spit, shoving past him and slamming the bathroom door.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You didn't see Mick for 4 days after that argument and wanted to rip your heart out. It kept craving for Mick, his scent, kisses, hugs, everything. You'd only see other people when Micheal requested you join him and Corinna for meals. Corinna tried to get you to see reason the first day, but Micheal just watched and cracked jokes.

But he decided to join the 'Love Mick Again' campaign today.

"Did you know the first time Corinna found out about my life, she stabbed me?" You drop your fork, shocked at the sudden confession. "Micheal." Corinna hisses, staring dagger at her aloof husband. "What? It's the truth." Shrugging it off like it was a typical topic. "Stabbed me right in the kidney. Us Schumacher men love strong will women. Even if it bites us in the ass." He whispers the last part, winking at you.

"Micheal! I will make you sleep on the couch." The head Schumacher cringes, going back to eating his breakfast. "One last thing." Both you and Corinna groan, looking at Micheal. "He truly loves you, Y/n. Did he handle this poorly? 100%. But, he would have never put you in harm's way, and you are now in harm's way is, killing him. Please, see him. He's out by the garage. Working on that death trap." Micheal grumbles.

You say nothing as you push your chair back. Where you ate your meals every day had a little walkway, and one day you got nosey and walked the path leading you to the garage. Mick was there, ripping apart a bike, sweaty and shirtless you had to walk away fast before your self-control was torn to shreds. Opening one of the doors, you slip out and follow the little bricks leading to the garage.

Music thumps the closer you get, smiling as he listens to rock music. The music is loud, and he's unable to hear you walk in, going straight for the speakers. Grabbing his phone, you pause the music only for the silence to be filled with angry German. "God dammit, Dad. I said leave me a- oh." He turns anger morphing into shock, seeing that it is you.

"Do you remember our last fight?" He chuckles, wiping his grease-covered hands off. "Yes, you said you didn't want our future together anymore." You kick the concrete. "No, I mean.....our real last fight." Mick's eyes shoot up at you, hope rising in his chest. "We argued about what kind of house we'd have. I said a modern yet rustic house. You want a cabin with plants and animals everywhere and no humans around." You giggle, nodding at his words.

"I'm still right." Mick smiles, tossing the rag to the side as he moves closer to you. "You're always right, Engel." You don't move, letting Mick get closer as you look up at him, smiling. "You hurt me." He makes a pained noise in the back of his throat, hands reaching up, and he holds your face. "I know, and nothing I can do or say will make that up to you." He whispers, pressing his forehead against yours.

"There is one thing." His grip tightens on your cheeks before relaxing as he forces you to look him in the eyes. "What is it? I'll do anything." Bingo, Mick is right where you want him. "Let me go. Let me leave and disappear." His eyes harden, hands dropping as he curls them into fists.

"No, you're not leaving me." Sighing, you reach into your back pocket. Mick was careless, leaving you alone to dig around and find the drugs in his room. "I'm sorry, Mick." He opens his mouth but cringes as he looks down.

"Y/n?" You start to breathe hard as Mick falls back, hand ripping the needle out of his thigh. "See how that feels. You shatter my heart, and I shatter yours." Mick whimpers, shakingly reaching for you. "Don't." He chokes out, trying to stay conscious. Mick turns on his stomach, watching through fuzzy eyes as you grab something that jingles. "They'll...kill...you." The sound of an engine and tires squealing as darkness sucks him down.

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #formula one #f1 fic #f1 angst #f1!mafia #mick shumacher imagine #mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x y/n #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher angst #mick schumacher imagine

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